Fetish
by kuchikisexual
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki takes the head of the Kurosaki General Hospital after the death of his father Isshin. His sisters, and his therapists, all believe he's a hopeless man if anything if he doesn't find love and will wound up bitter and by himself. All of that may change when a young chickenhearted boy who works for his business refers him to the likes of a not so friendly young woman
1. Prologue

**WARNING:**

**If you do not like lemon fics, TURN AROUND.**

**This fiction in particular contains lots of lemon, lots of profanity, crude behavior and kink. If this is not to your taste, or if you do not have an open mind, this fiction if not for you. If not, welcome!**

******FETISH.**

-xx-

**PROLOGUE.**

"Good morning, Mr. Kurosaki."

His therapist's voice seemed especially teeming with a little extra _oomph _this morning. Maybe it's because he looked like shit, and she noticed— _that _meant extra hours. Extra hours equals more money from _his _pocket. She swung one thick sleek dark skinned leg dressed in sheer black hosing femininely over the other, raising a thin violet brow at her client as he walked in with a head full of fiery spiked orange, "Morning."

"You look like a wreck in a thousand dollar suit."

_Maybe it's 'cause it's 6 in the morning and I have to see your fucking mug._

He grimaced, nearly crushing the hot paper coffee cup in with his bare hand, "_Thanks_." His therapist sniggered, she was the devil. He swore he _payed _her to be the devil, sometimes.

And she was good at it.

She swung her ponytail of long violet over her shoulder, batting long black lashes over her orbs of extravagant gold pots behind thin black framed glasses; leaning back in her brown leather arm chair, "How can I be of assistance to you this _wonderful _and _glorious _morning? You've obviously come to me with fantastic news, yes?"

Ichigo plopped down onto the leather couch across from the overly cheerful woman, the air expelling from the cushion made a funny sound that even he didn't crack a smile at. This bothered her. "No?"

"No."

She frowned, "What happened _this time_?"

"I had that dream again."

"The one about your father?"

He narrowed his burning ambers bitterly at her as if to answer her that way. She knew him all too well. "Mr. Kurosaki—"

"Why," Ichigo griped, massaging his temples thoroughly with slender digits, "do you insist on annoying me with formalities?"

"_Ichigo_," Yoruichi rolled her eyes to the top of their sockets and back, "Isshin passed away years ago. You and your sisters accepted that, did you not?"

He nodded.

"That being said, why is it that you find yourself having this constant dream?"

"Because," he grumbled inside the palm of his large hot hand, "I'm letting my old man down." Yoruichi raised an inquisitive brow, swinging her foot back and forth in interest as she listens further into Ichigo's explanation, "How so?"

"When he was alive, he'd have this _big ass _poster of mom hanging up inside the kitchen y'know? It was weird as hell, but it was a comfort thing for him. Everyday, he'd say to her, '_Masakiii, I've failed yoooou. Our son hasn't found himself a good womaaan. Oooooh._'" Ichigo mimicks his father's tone with a deepened voice, waving his hands at the side of his head, "It's just annoying every day when I have to think back about that and realize that he was right. And y'know what's worse? I don't _want _to find a good woman."

"So then, what's there to feel bad about then?"

"Feels like I'm betraying my old man in his grave. I'm sleeping with all these women, and all the while he's dead— his entire life time, all he wanted was for me to be happy with a woman I love. I don't _want _to fall in love Shihouin. Love is too complicated. I just want an…arrangement."

Yoruichi snorted humorously, bringing her finger up to her nose, "You lost me."

"Are you aware that I am the owner and head physician of the _Kurosaki General Hospital_? A relationship for me would be _suicide_, I work day and night. I barely have time for myself, much less a woman…not saying that I don't want women in my life. I just don't want a commitment."

"So, what you're saying is. You _want_ _women, _but you don't want relationships, therefore, you must only be seeking sex. And on top of that, sex with no strings attached. Am I right?" Yoruichi propped her elbow up onto the leather exterior of her armchair, resting her silky cheek on her broad knuckles, "Let me ask you something, Kurosaki. Have you ever considered investing in a _flesh light_?" She questioned; her tone taking a deadly serious turn for the worse.

After all, for a married woman to have no other choice but to sit and listen to such arrogance— and remain so _professional _about it…

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, almost as if he hadn't entirely understood her, like she'd said something in a completely foreign dialect or something, "A what?"

Of course.

For a man to be so damn intelligent, this one was a real idiot.

"Look—" Yoruichi griped in despair, "the fact of the matter is, no woman—other than a _prostitute_—is just going to let you have _sex _with her and walk away the next day. That's bullsh—" Ichigo's brows have risen.

"Garbage." She rephrased, chewing desperately on her tongue before moving on, "How's your sex life anyway?" Ichigo licked his lips and clears his throat, "Healthy." Yoruichi shifted uncomfortable in her chair, "What do you _mean _healthy?"

"It's. Alive."

"I assume you aren't contradicting what you're telling me, so you don't have a girlfriend?"

He nods in concernment.

"Are you…" Yoruichi's right eye twitches nervously as she proceeds with the next nerve wrecking interrogative—dare she say it. She removes her frames, massaging her heavy eyelids with her textured finger pads while she mumbles something flatly under her breath. "What?" Ichigo sputtered, wrinkling his nose at the flustered woman. "Are you having sex with…_Chikane_?"

Oh God.

He rasped sharply through his nose, as if his very life depended on it. How _dare _she assume such a thing, why, if he were against such things, he would've lept over the tiny wooden table separating the two and slapped the starch out of her finely pressed collar. Instead though, he digs his nails into the fine leather couch, and grinds his teeth together. _Hard_. "_No. Shihouin_." He muttered, spitting her name like it was pure unfiltered filth in his mouth.

Disgusting. Why would she think that?

Chikane was old— _ancient_— a friend of his father's back when even _he _was in his teenage years. The only relevance she had in Ichigo's life to this day was the fact that she had been kind enough to lend her assistance to him with taking the job of housework around his apartment.

Not to get him wrong.

Ichigo loved her company.

All his life, Chikane was like a grandmother to him. Loving, whole hearted…a pain in the ass when it was necessary. Which was most of the time it seemed. _Especially _when it came to her being in the premises of Ichigo's _livin' large _lifestyle, and penthouse apartment. She would always bicker and shout things like:

"_Why do you put your feet up on your desk!? Do you not have any home training! I just dusted that! Tuck your shirt in! Don't throw your tie there! Hello!? Master Kurosaki, your sister is on the phone_— _stop being rude and acting tired, speak to her! You haven't spoken to your family in ages! And stop slouching, you'll get a hunch back that way!_"

Jesus.

What a pain. How the hell could he even _imagine _having relations with a woman like…like…_her_? Now that he'd recollected on it, as much as it was a nuisance to have her around, since she's retired it _has _been a bit lonely in his oversized domain. Without her constant bickering, her overwhelming shrilling voice and her backwards ass demands…and whenever she referred to him as _Master Kurosaki _and her reasoning behind it—

"_No matter if I've known you all your life, now that I work underneath you that means you are my superior. As such, I must refer to you with such formalities…now put your cup on a coaster! For heaven's sake boy, I just sponged your nice mahogany desk!_"

Yeah. She treated him like a king alright.

"Ah," Yoruichi huffed, she sounded relieved, "still sleeping with women at random then, I assume?"

_I assume_. She says that a lot. He considered lying to her, but even then she would notice. That was something Ichigo despised about Yoruichi Shihouin, and her devious ways. She was utterly, yet inconspicuously passionate about stomping men like Ichigo's heads into vats of acidic waste with her spike pointed high heels on. Or worse.

This jackal of woman could drain the strength out of Ichigo in a single session within only an hour, and all she had to do was _stare _at him with those parasitic orbs of ochroid. And to think at first he had thought she was hot.

He will forever regret the day he _ever _tried to lay his charm down on Yoruichi Shihouin. She laid the rejection on him— quick too.

Along with a heavy hand equipped with a gold wedding band. His left cheek bone throbbed in agony just _remembering _it.

Bitch.

Why she continued insisting he come? Probably just to torture him. _That's _why he inwardly loathed her, but oddly enough, he felt a gnawing sensation of awkward friendship between them.

"Come to think of it," Ichigo mumbled, desperate to change subject after another one of her infamous _I assume _episodes, "It's been a month since Summer's began, and Chikane left. And I have yet to hire a replacement for her…"

"Have you considered it?"

"Oddly," he mewled, "no."

"You should," Yoruichi chirped, "having an older woman around again may extinguish that _flaming sex drive _of yours that always seems to get you in those hit-and-run situations that you oh so adore—"

"I get it," Ichigo spat bitterly, "you think I'm a good for nothing womanizer. You don't have to go on and on and _on _about it. Good _grief _woman you'll put me in an early grave if you keep badgering me like that…"

"Just a suggestion." Her sly scarlet lips curved into a sinister smile upon her contoured face as she set her eyes upon her client sitting aggrieved in front of her. It was as if she _enjoyed _putting him in pain. No. She did.

She just wouldn't tell him. Yet.

He massaged his forehead vigorously with his index digit and thumb until he's worked away a headache that's attempted to slyly creep unto his lobe. _There will be none of that before work…_

Speaking of. His amber hues slip down to the silver wrist watch peeking out from the sleeve of his dark gray suit, "Shit. I'm late now—"

"Bye bye," she waved farewell with the fingers of her left hand, "see you next Friday at 6!"

"_Yeah yeah…_"

Ichigo arose from the couch, struggling at first after being stationary for so long, his body had become boneless and his limbs numb. He stretched his long arms and legs, righting the brown leather strap of his satchel bag on his right satchel as he heads for the office door and wraps his hand around the cold steel—

"Kurosaki."

He shot his gaze back to Yoruichi, staring at him while she bites down on earpiece of her eyeglasses, "_Think about _what I told you. I know you don't very often, but at least take into consideration this time what I said. Maybe things will wind up going differently for you. And those dreams? Maybe they'll stop too."

Ichigo blinked curiously, silently. For several seconds only staring at her.

Where the hell is _this _side of her coming from?

"Your old man will maybe understa—"

"Tch," he scoffed shortly, twisting the metal knob to the door and pulling it open with a soft creek, "sorry sister. But you don't know my old man…"


	2. Chapter 1

**ONE.**

_Having an older woman around again may extinguish that__flaming sex drive__of yours that always seems to get you in those hit-and-run situations that you oh so adore._

Damn her. That impudent fucking woman.

She knows just what to say so his whole day is completely ruined. And now he's shot. Just, sitting.

Staring at his monitor behind his desk.

"Dammit!" Ichigo bellowed, crashing down on the glass surface of his desk with his powerful fists in excitability. He's _much _too annoyed for this. Yoruichi has officially fucked up his _entire_ day. He cringes in malady; something hot—no. Something is _scor_ching in his lap. He looks down to find,

it's his coffee. He's gotten so worked up in his rage he quaked his desk and spilled it over into his lap.

Excellent.

He bobs up from his seat, making a heavy _O _shape with his lips while heaving heavily with his lungs. _This day… _Mentally screaming, howling. _Cannot get. Any worse. _

"Hey Kurosaki, I—" Orbs of cobalt blue widen in alarm, he stops in the threshold and stares at Ichigo in his neediest of times. Gritting his teeth. As if he feels his pain from the fucking _door_! "Your pants are…steaming."

"_Really now_?" Ichigo squeals, rather than speaks in normal tone, "Thanks for noticing Ishida. I was going for the hot steaming pants look when I woke up this morning."

"I'll go get a cold towel."

"No no no," he insisted, slowly lowering himself back into his ball singing leather seat, "it's fine. This is good for me. This way, maybe my testicles will shrivel up and fall off—"

"Aaaand," Uryuu averts his stare to his left, then his right, shifting his gaze to the outside of Ichigo's office to be sure that no one other than him has heard the oddity of this statement. Just for extra precaution, he closes the door, "This is good for you, _because_?" Ichigo sighed miserably, lowering his head into the gap of his hands, "My therapist already made me less of a man this morning anyway. Bitch gave me a migraine the size of Beijing."

"Aren't therapists supposed to help you _solve _your problems? Sounds like for the past few months all yours has been doing is bringing up new ones."

"She's satan."

"Ooh," Uryuu rolled his eyes acrimoniously, "you say that about all women! All _you _need is a nice massage to work that pesky migraine right off!"

_Pesky_. Who even says that anymore? Ichigo watches stagnantly as his companion makes way into his professional style office. He chose to ignore him rather than comment on his childish and old timey use of the word "_pesky_". Instead, he stares, inspecting him as he rounds the two clientele chairs placed before Ichigo's desk—

Oh god he's serious.

"Ishida, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Relax," Uryuu insistently prompted Ichigo, pushing him down further into the cushioning of his seat with the placing of his masculine hands on his broad shoulders. Ichigo cringed. He squared his shoulders, immediately tensing once the cold flesh of his colleague has made contact with his through the thin fabric of his work attire. He can feel it, textured and slightly rough.

Oh the horror.

He begins to rotate his fingers along the muscle of Ichigo's shoulders, roughly at first, digging in deep into his tissue. "Hoh—"

"Feels good, right?"

"_Hell _no."

"No?" He blinks, astonished as if this is the first time he's ever heard complaints about his _amazing _masseuse skills, "Maybe it's because the pain is in your head and not in your shoulders."

"_Or_," Ichigo responded coldly, "maybe it's because your massages are shi—"

Uryuu slapped his hands to Ichigo's temples, pressing the balls of his palms down to his cheekbones as his fingertips go to work at massaging every open surface area of flesh they can find on his peach toned skin. They're pulling his eyelids, ripping tiny threads of orange from his brows as they're working feverish to thrust away the migraine Ichigo has been mourning about melodramatically for the past several moment he's been here.

Instead.

He's simply feeding the flame inside of Ichigo's skull.

His ambers roll back in their sockets, and an almost sickening groan rolls out between his slightly parted lips, "Oh my God…"

"How's it feel?"

"You give Inoue these massages?"

Orihime Inoue-Ishida. She, Uryuu and Ichigo had all been friends in and out of high school and through college, through bad and through worse, and every now and then, through good. She was the bubbly, giddy, feminine type, with a curvy busty shape and gorgeously long red hair. Big shiny gray-blue eyes, and a sparkling personality. Uryuu had been the one to have a crush on her, undoubtedly, however she had _always _had eyes for Ichigo.

He would never guess what suddenly changed her mind.

Whatever it was, it definitely _wasn't _these massages.

"Yes," Uryuu scolded, "and she loves them."

"What a nice woman." Ichigo grumbled. He fanned Uryuu's hands away, bringing his own appendages to his forehead, "Thanks for making it worse, you jackass. Jesus…it feels like hell in there…"

"What exactly did your therapist say to you to get you all fired up like this anyway?"

"Nothing she wouldn't normally say to my face to make me feel like I'm nothing lower than scum."

"Must be pretty bad."

"She called me a man whore."

Silence. Uryuu coughs into his balled up fist. "Kurosaki. You _are _a man whore."

Ichigo shoots his eyes up and around at Uryuu with a devilish glare fierce enough to freeze hell over itself, "_What_?"

"Ever since we first started college," he continues. _That _look doesn't faze him at all. He's seen it way too many times in his life to let him intimidate him or cause any more trepidation than it did in his years of youthfulness. Ichigo watches, appalled, as Ishida simply walks around to the edge of his desk and slides up with his fancy gray trousers onto it oh so casually as if he isn't insulting him to his face, "your dad pretty much shoved your face into medical studies. That's pretty much all you ever did. You studied and studied—you got good grades, I'll give you that. You're not an idiot, well, not all the time—"

"What does this have to do with me being a man whore?"

"_Let_," Uryuu waved his hand in front of Ichigo's face, hushing his impatience, "Im not finished. So you thought you were done right? You started getting interested in girls. Girls, girls, girls. I saw it. Orihime saw it, Orihime _definitely _saw it—"

_Probably _explains why she lost interest.

"and Grimmjow. _That_ guy! Poor guy. Haven't seen him since he dropped out and went to jail…anyway. Point is, you pulled your head from in between the pages and started putting it _in _between girl's legs. See what I'm saying here? I mean, for God's sake Kurosaki, everything you have now is a freaking blessing. You barely got your degree! You made it by a scratch— a fucking _scratch_! Good thing I was there to pull your ass up to the surface too. Otherwise, you would've wound up like…like…" he scanned the surrounding area, inside and out, penetrating the tall rectangular glass window of Ichigo's office with his eyes to use a lower class outsider as an example, "Like Hanataro out there!"

Hanataro Yamada.

Ichigo narrows his eyes crossly, "_Hanataro_? You just tried to compare me to a kid who's still in _high school_?"

Silence.

He's still staring out the window with his lips parted in awe, "_Yuh-oh_."

"What is it?"

"He's screwing up on something else," Uryuu sputters in his own inward amusement, "_again_." Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. _Don't do it Kurosaki. _

_Stay calm._

_This is only the third time this week._

"It looks like Soifon is about to break her size 6 off up his—"

He shoved away from his desk, up from his chair from his chair in an instant, "I better go get him."

"Way to go Ichigo," Uryuu applauds, watching as the orange headed man walks silently towards his office door, "looks like you've still got a heart of gold after all…"

-xx-

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please, it'll never happen again!"

"Yamadaaaaaaaaaa!" This she-devil. This demon of the day time—hell even the night time. She's a blood sucking, soul thirsty, _witch_. With a slim dainty figure and short black hair. She stands over Hanataro who's knelt down below in, what's the word? Pure unadulterated shit his pants _apprehension_?

Fear, in simpler terms.

Her slender digits dig tightly into her flat hips, fidgeting, God she wants to knock his lights out.

"I'll clean it up right away!"

"What's going on out here, Soifon?"

Ichigo to the rescue.

Soifon twitches. She despises _him _just about as much as she despises screw ups like Hanataro. Or any other man for that matter, "Why don't you ask your little part-time down there!? He's been causing nothing but trouble since you hired the little worm! I say you fire him!"

_I couldn't agree more_.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his prickled neck. The sound of this woman's voice shrilling in agitation made his hairs stand on end. "What happened now, Yamada?"

"I can explain Mr. Kurosaki!" Hanataro sprang to his feet in no time, patting down his mint green intern scrubs. He's a volunteer worker here in the Kurosaki General Hospital, in desperate need the credits for his high school though it's summer, he'll be a senior next year. Hell, no _other _company would take him. Ichigo could see why.

He felt bad for the poor kid.

Why not give him a chance?

"You see, what had happened was, I was walking with a patient's urine sample, the patient in room 109? I was headed to turn it in to the lab, but I wasn't looking where I was going and I accidentally…bumped into miss Fon…"

"And?" Ichigo pried further into the situation with endless questioning, "So, where's the sample?" Hanataro gulped. He fumbled with his fingers nervously before pointing down at the white tile below Ichigo's black dress shoes. He looked down in abashment, jamming his eyelids over his desolate ambers.

Angst.

"Um…Mr. Kurosaki?"

_Whoosa. Whoosa. _

_Count backwards from ten, Ichigo. No harm found, right?_

_You're not gonna kill this 11__th__ grade kid just because there's some stranger's piss under your 2oo dollar shoes._

"Clean. It. Up. Yamada." Ichigo spat with lethal venom in hard syllables. Hanatarou's aqua beads glistened with glee, "So that means I'm not fired!?"

Soifon rolled her eyes in detest. She wouldn't say anything for now in front of Ichigo, but when the air was clear, Hanataro would get an earful of her for sure…

-xx-

Porcelain cries out against the violent downpour of its abuser, the glistening aqua pours heavy.

Heavy. So. Heavy…

_Slam!_ Collision! Only out of a pair of 200 dollar vintage Italian dress shoes is thrown at the tile wall inside the enclosed space of the Kurosaki Hospital's men's restroom. Uryuu stands at a distance. He watches, intrigued as well as concerned from his friend's wellbeing.

Is this it?

Has Ichigo Kurosaki finally snapped?

He brings large palms to the sides of his head, trailing them up his side burns and through the scruffs of orange, tearing out strands of the saturated hue. He can hear his father's voice now—

_You've gotten weak my son._

_Have you really let your guard down so much more now that I'm away? It's a shame._

_I'm ashamed._

"_Dammit_…" He choked back sloppy cries of anguish and despairs, squeezing his head against the wall, "_why me? Why couldn't this kind of thing have been place on Yuzu or Karin!? Why the hell did it have to be me!?_"

Silence.

"Fuck!"

That's it. It's official, no doubts, no ifs ands or buts about it. Ichigo Kurosaki, has undoubtedly cracked.

Uryuu is both speechless, and afraid to speak, "Ichigo. Come on…everyone will hear you outside…"

"So what?" He grumbled spitefully, "So what if they hear the _head physician _in the bathroom crying and cursing like a little bitch? Who the hell cares?"

"Your father would."

"Yeah?" He turns, pressing his back against the wall, "Well he's not here."

"So that's it then? You're just gonna give it up? Even if it's what he's worked hard for his entire life, up from the Kurosaki clinic? Even if he's put everything he's got into getting this place up and running and he _finally _did it before he died, and all he asks if that his son keeps the ball rolling after his death."

"Don't start Ishida—"

"What about your sisters?" Uryuu snapped, "If not for Isshin, then what about Yuzu, huh? And Karin? You talked to them recently? What do you think they would say if the big brother they look up to would suddenly fall out because _he doesn't want to do it anymore_. Some role model you would be."

"_What did you say?_"

"What?" He steps— daringly close— into the perimeter of Ichigo's body. Their toes touch, the tips of their noses are nearly pressed up against one another with the heat of each other's breath radiating, "You gonna hit me? _Kurosaki_?"

Oh hell no.

Ichigo is inflamed now. Which is _exactly _what Uryuu intended to do, and he knows it. He chuckles, exasperated, "_Get the fuck out of my fucking face before I give you a new row of front teeth_."

"It's good to have you back, Kurosaki."

"Yeah." His teeth are tightened, compacted tightly against each other in a continuous grinding motion. How could he _not _be agitated? On top of Ishida's small _Kurosaki family _lecture, he's still got a lingering feeling of unease dangling over that beautiful bright orange head of his. Maybe it's the migraine playing dirty tricks on him. Uryuu retrieves his shoe from the ground across the bathroom, gliding it across the floor so it hits against the side of Ichigo's foot, "Put your shoe on. Your shift's almost over. You don't want to work too long with that head ache. You could fuck someone up."

"I don't want to go home to _nothing _either," Ichigo stammered as he lifts his leg to slip his size 13 foot into his black leather shoe. "Wait," Uryuu blinks twice, "you _fired_ Chikane—"

"She retired. The woman was damn well in her _80'_s Uryuu. I wasn't going to slave her all her life, the hell do you think I am?"

"Damn," He grimaced lightly, placing his hands upon his waist, "so you really are alone then. You wanna come over and spend the weekend with me and Inoue?"

_Thanks, but no thanks_.

The look on his face said it all, his negative eyes, the urges to rudely decline the invitation; however he resisted with all the willpower god invested in him. Which wasn't a lot, he'd admit. It never was. Uyruu dismissed the idea too, hatching his arms around his broad chest, "Right."

"It's not you…"

"I know."

It's just so, damn, _awkward_.

Spending a weekend in the same house with a woman he _used _to have a friendly relationship with until it turns out, she was absolutely inapplicably in love with him? And then marries his best friend to show it? Not the mother of all weekends in Ichigo's book. He felt the semi-warmth of Uryuu's strong hand return to his back in a not so comforting way, more like a slap rather than a pat. It knocked the sigh he was about to let go right out of him. Violently. "Let's get out of here," He started shoving Ichigo towards the exit. The last place he thought to be having a conversation with a longtime friend was the men's room, and he damn sure wouldn't start now, regardless how upset he was.

Ichigo halted strongly in his footsteps at the door, bringing his hand to his groin. Just checking. The paper towel treatment worked _perfectly_. Minutes of constantly patting and scrubbing his trousers with the bathroom's hand drying towels had dried them to the point where— stain? What stain?

His mood had transcended from sour to fairly well with Uryuu around. That was something he was thankful for, despite his god given gift to piss him off whenever he pleased. "Hanataro?" Uryuu announced audibly loud enough so the young man could hear him from down the hallway.

He swivels his head with strands of silky black hair flying around with him, "Mr. Ishida! Mr. Kurosaki!"

"What are you doing outside the patients room? Shouldn't you be _in_side?"

"I should," he muttered, "but Ms. Fon says it's better if I just keep my '_grubby little hands_' off of things for a while…"

Harsh stuff.

"So where is _she_?" Ichigo raises his tone to slightly frustrated. Hanataro points to the large wooden door, "She's inside dealing with the patient. She's been in there for quite some time now. I don't blame her. This is the third urine sample in the past 20 minutes. There's no _way _someone can pee that mu—"

"Thank you Hanataro."

As much as Ichigo couldn't stand that spiteful woman Soifon, he had to give her her credentials. She took her job around here—around anywhere she worked—very _very _seriously. Regardless to whether she enjoyed the company of her colleagues and superiors, or her inferiors, or not. "Say, um…Mr. Kurosaki…I know this is probably a bad time, but I was wondering. If you had any other positions opened or opening soon at the hospital at all?"

"What is it now, Yamada?" Ichigo responded rather nastily, still upset from Soifon's hoarse course of action. Hanataro lowered his head to the point where he'd seen nothing but the tip of his own white tennis shoes, "Well you see, I have a friend who's been out of work for quite some time now. She has a really impressive resume! Her brother used to be the CEO of Karakura's top rate life product companies! But…he died from a brain tumor a few years back…and she was laid off too. The economy's rough y'know, a job's hard to find even for her. She's a really good friend of mine, and my mom, and I just feel like if there's anything I can do to be useful I could at least try and help out with…"

There's a sudden silence now, only filled with the sounds of work life, patients and staff scurrying through the hallway to attend to the things they need and desk nurses picking up phones with the routine, "_Kurosaki General Hospital this is…_" Hanataro raised his gaze up to meet theirs, glaring down on him with pity, and in Ichigo's case, a sour taste of guilt. He grit his teeth tightly, squeezing his fingers together inside of his silk lined pockets, "I'm sorry Yamada but…the hospital is already overloaded as it is. With all the interns and such. Adding more staff would be…"

Hanataro puffed. He shouldn't be upset, he expected it. However, his heart ached for not being able to do the simplest thing like helping out one of his closest friends, "I understand…thank you for listening Mr. Kurosaki…"

Uryuu winced. Why the hell did _he _feel bad in all of this? He wasn't the one the indirectly told him no, he wasn't the one that was asked, why did he feel somewhat involved in the entirety of the situa…

"_Kurosaki,_" he yanked at the sleeve of Ichigo's shirt violently, pulling him so that he would whisper closely in his ear without the option of being heard by Hanataro. Ichigo made a face as if he were slightly disgusted by the idea of whatever Uryuu had been suggesting, and then.

Something amazing happens.

The horrendous, the infamous Kurosaki scowl, lightens into something softer. Something one can look up upon and think, "wow. He looks like a nice guy." Ichigo erected his back, righting his necktie on his pale blue work shirt, "Hanatarou, you said this woman was a friend of your mother's as well correct?"

"Yes sir."

"So I take it that she's older than you?"

"Oh _yes _sir," Hanatarou exaggerated with the widening of his aquamarine eyes, "_much _older." The smirk on Ichigo's face grew wider, it was actually kind of scary, "How much older?"

"Gosh, sir. I wouldn't know. And she would kill me if I guessed…um…if you don't mind me asking sir. Where exactly are we taking this…?"

"Hanatarou," Ichigo grasped the biceps of this young boy before him. This young, beautiful headed boy, "I might have a job for your friend. If she's willing to take it." Hanatarou's saddened hues brightened and his smile grew, hell he would've almost started crying if it weren't for his teenage boyhood inside of his head screaming "_What the hell are you doing!? Don't cry in front of your boss! You little pussy…_"

"_T_—_thank you so much siiiir_," his sloppy sobbing spilled over anyway.

What is _wrong _with this kid?

"But you have to understand the position I'm going to be giving your friend. It isn't one in the hospital, but it pays just as much. Only thing is is that it's a bit more...personal."

Wait a minute.

Hanataro ceases his horrendous howls of joy, sniffling and dragging the side of his forearm across his wet face, "W—what kind of position is it Mr. Kurosaki...?"

"She would be his maid."

Ichigo lowered his head, tightening his lips to the point where they grew cold from the constriction of blood vessels, as did Hanataro's face when Uryuu's words reached his ears. The boy practically burst in tears— again— stuttering lugubriously for more than just a few seconds, "Ma—ma—mamama—_maid_!?"

_There _we go. "She can't be a maid! She's— she can't be!" Hanataro swiveled, his entire body jerked and bucked with the intensity as if,

he were rammed in the back with an automobile driving at full speed.

He collides with the ground with his right hand gripping the breast of his shirt. Man, what is _wrong _with this kid? Trembling. Trembling. He hits the ground, with his left hand holding him up for support, "_You don't understand Mr. Kurosaki...it's not that she can't do it, no. It isn't that at all. She's capable of anything**— **it's just. I don't think I would be able to stand it..._"

"Stand it?" Ichigo catechized; still unable to grasp the concept of why Hanataro Yamada continued to be the eccentric young man he was. "_Yes_," he continued, growing only a single pitch higher, "_I couldn't...stand..._" Just like that, _swoop_! Both Ichigo and Uryuu dodged Hanataro's extraordinary recovery from his sulking position, ricocheting from the hospital ground with his hand to his chest and his left arm outstretched, "_imagining the love of my life dressed in such moe maid's uniform in another man's house if I'm not there to see it!_"

No way.

He's not serious. _Is_ he?

_Moe_?

"What kind of otaku type shit—"

Uryuu brought his elbow down deep into the pit of Ichigo's hardened core, graveling, he fell down to his knees. _Bastard..._ "You have it all wrong," the cobalt headed man spoke eloquently as he adjusts his silver frames upon the bridge of his nose, "as degrading as Kurosaki seems, he treats his maids with respect—"

That in a whole was _somewhat _true.

"I actually have a picture of his last maid, she was a very kind woman."

_That was a bullfaced lie._

_And why do you have a picture of Chikane in your wallet?_

As he struggles to his feet, Uryuu invests his time in sharing photos—of himself and Orihime at Ichigo's Christmas party first—then of Chikane in her maid's attire. A dark blue dress, stretching down to her thighs and fluting out with white frilled trimming. The sleeves were short and puffed— for the summer season, in the winter the dress, and the sleeves, were much longer. At the neck, which was dipped down to show her collar bone, white frills flew outwards to exaggerate the neck lining and a white bow was tied delicately in the middle of her breasts, and a white bonnet set atop her head which Ichigo placed there just to annoy her because he thought it was "cute". In the photo she wore black stockings, this was Chikane's own personal touch, the uniform overall had a mature touch to it considering she was an older woman.

This picture had been from the last day Chikane had been working around the house, setting things straight and making sure things were perfect.

Just to be ruined again of course. It _was _Ichigo they were talking about.

Hanataro sighed heavily, "Oh! What a relief! I thought it would be much shorter..."

"Just what the hell do you think I a—"

Once again, Uryuu struck Ichigo only this time with his foot and from behind. Fuck he hated that. "You see? No harm found. Your friend is in good hands with Mr. Kurosaki, so she can continue being...the love of your life..."

Of course, every high school boy had a crush on an older woman now or then. His teacher, his mom's friend. A pretty woman he's seen once or twice working at the corner store. In Hanataro's case though, it seemed like a little bit of an obsession. "Would you happen to have your friend's number?"

"Sure!"

He jerks his phone from his back pocket, swiftly scrolling through his not-so-long contact list consisting of only his mother, his aunt, his _grandmother_, and a name Uryuu has no time to read before his fingers have already stabbed the button on his keypad to pull up the number, "It's 803..."

***NOTE: HELLUR. First chapter, hallelujah! Hope it's to everyone's liking! Glad I made it too 'cause I couldn't WAIT to get to the next and introduce some new characterrrrrrrrs with all the foreshadowing and uhmuhgawd. The name of the fic will become _very _apparent a few, if not, a number of chapters in so sit back and keep reading. B) And remember to always review!**

**Reviews make me umggggg.**

**XOXO.**


	3. Chapter 2

"Take that! And that! Die! Die!"

She looked, no, Rukia Kuchiki _stared_ across the length of the square room in concern at the disturbed hedonistic woman lying in her bed, her blonde hair sprawled out shortly atop her pink silk pillow case. It's amazing how she can share a place with someone who is her exact opposite. Loud, obnoxious.

Gullible.

"Rangiku," Rukia whined, shutting her hands over her ears to tone out the mind-sheering sounds of lasers or, rockets or...whatever the fuck was going on in that stupid little pink handheld game she played every damn day. Not to mention she can barely hear herself over Rangiku's terrible taste of J-pop music playing on the stereo in the room, "I'm trying to _study_."

"It's fine," Rangiku responded quickly, "I'll just be more quiet."

Well played Matsumoto. Well played.

Like _that _will every happen.

Rukia _wishes _she could just run over there and rip every last strand of bobbed blonde right out of that pretty little head of hers, weave a rope with it and choke the bitch. But that would be ridiculous. Rangiku's hair is much too short for that. Plus, she's allowing her to stay here while she's finishing up on earning her bachelor's degree, so that would only cause a slight..._bend _in their friendship if Rukia were to do such a vulgar thing.

Still. A girl can dream.

She buried her tired face in the thickness of her book, screaming inwardly to herself. _Kill me. Kill me. Please, god... _

"Hey Rukia, I think your phone is ringing."

"Huh?"

_How the hell can she hear it over her game and her music? _

Rukia spun around in her swivel chair, raising both her hands in catching position, "Who is it?" Rangiku shrugged as she tosses the projectile Rukia's way to be caught as carefully as she can. She looks at the number on the screen, waving her hand for Rangiku to turn down her music before she answers the phone with a casual tone apart from her usually cold voice— "Hello?"

"Is this Rukia Kuchiki?"

"Yes?" _Who the hell is this_? Rangiku _flies _off the edge of her bed, just to cut around to being nosy in Rukia's conversation once she catches wind that whoever's calling is either someone Rukia doesn't like, or a _complete _stranger. She's got reading Rukia's facial expressions down to an art form, dammit. She bats her away with her hand at first, spinning back around in her chair and switching ears with her cellphone to unburden herself of Rangiku's meddlesome eavesdropping, but finds that her attempts go unrewarded, "This is Ichigo Kurosaki, sorry if this is a bad time. I'm a manager, looking for an employee, and was referred to you by Hanataro Yamada who works for me in my hospital Kurosaki General—"

"_Hoooly—_"

Rukia's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She shoved Rangiku away, this time forcibly with a hand to the face, "Y—yes?"

"_Is _this a bad time?"

"No! No, in fact this timing is perfect, this is a perfect time!"

Perfect timing means a half naked Rukia in only her thin white panties and a black camisole with her hair in a sloppy high bun pacing up and down her friend's room anxious as ever. Yeah. Perfect. Rangiku wanders around on all fours like a lost puppy, circling around Rukia's legs once she's stopped and Rukia gives her the "_What the fuck are you doing_" face for a while before Ichigo begins to speak again, "Great," he chuckled lightly.

"_He sounds cute,_" Rangiku cooed softly in Rukia's earlobe. She whipped around, heart racing lively as ever, shooting Rangiku the— "_When the fuck did you get behind me_" look. "I was wondering if you were available to meet me soon for a face to face interview. I'd like to ask you a few questions, and get to know you before I consider hiring you for the job. Hanataro tells me already that you're a pretty great person, he seemed pretty...passionate about it."

"Hanataro, huh?" Rukia crowed lightly while massaging the side of her neck, as if saying his name brought her slight discomfort—

"_Hanataro? Isn't he that dweeby guy you had to turn down twice before he started stalking you your senior year?_"

Silence.

"Alright," she chirped vivaciously loud, "I'll see you then. Bye."

"What the hell was that? Who was that guy? Do you have some boyfriend I don't know about?" No. That can't be it. As long as Rangiku's known Rukia she hasn't been one to date, especially not when Byakuya was about. He absolutely_ forebode _her to, even now she lives by the philosophy, "A significant other will only be a distraction, keeping you from achieving your life's greatest goals." And yes, she imagined him saying this. In _his_ voice. She watched as she turned and sighed loudly, coming to rest on the edge of Rangiku's mattress. Silent. Gazeless.

What the hell is going on? She was just acting so excited only a moment ago— is this really Rukia?

No. This had to have been some sort of switch. Some girl, some _stunt double _came and took Rukia's place while Rangiku wasn't looking. Something isn't particularly correct about this entire situation. It was driving a girl like Rangiku, who already had trouble grasping the conspiracies of even _simple _situations, unaninomously berserk. "Rukia! _Rukia_!" Rangiku blubbered horrendously, her wails of melancholy echoing off her ugly pink painted walls, "Speak to me! What happened!? What the hell happened!? Who was that man!? What did he want!? Please, _please _don't tell me someone's coming to take you away from me Rukia! You're like a child to me!"

But they're the same age.

Rukia squinted her eyes thinly, rolling them to the top of their sockets and back down again, "I have an interview," she said, "you dipshit."

"Really!?"

Maybe she hadn't caught the last part.

"Oh my _god_," she rasped blatantly, latching her arms around Rukia's neck. Whether she would suffocate her "child" in the proximity of her maneating breasts or not seemed to be beyond her. "I'm so happy for you! Did he tell you what it was for!?" Rukia inhaled deeply, most of it being the scent of Rangiku's cleavage, she exhaled. It hadn't occurred to her to ask, just agreeing to everything he had said seemed to be the most conspicuous course of action to take.

At the time.

She pried apart from the busty blonde, staring dead on into her pink and white pinstriped tank-top shirt, "I...I honestly don't think he said. But he _did _say he owned a hospital! The Kurosaki General Hospital? Hanataro told me about it...once. He said something about getting an internship there for school credits and asked me if I wanted to join him. My _graduating year_."

"Not the brightest kid is he?"

_You're one to talk._

"Let's just...forget about...that ever happening. Hanataro's sweet. He's just got a little, weird way of approaching others but, he's a sweet boy when he comes around to doing it."

"So when's the interview?"

"I told him I'd be available today. My...god...I feel so..." so fell back to the bedding with an exasperated sigh, "_relieved_."

"Why's that?" Rangiku returned her attention to the radio sitting on the far side of the room to turn it completely off while she listened, "I can finally call that jackass Urahara and tell him to put all that philosophical bullshit that's always spewing out his mouth and shove it up his ass! Then, I can quit."

"Jeez..." Rangiku muttered quietly, "I don't think you'd have to. I'd think he'd fire you before you do that."

"Yeah? Well good thing too. I'm tired of working in his shop. The pay is crap anyway. And I'm tired of working around that idiotic hot-headed redhead boy anyway..."

"Renji?"

"_Jinta._"

"Won't you miss working around Renji?"

Rukia rolled on to her side, perplexed by Rangiku's unusual interrogative, "Why would I miss _Renji_? We've been friends since kindergarten He doesn't give me enough space to miss him." Rangiku began to hum a harmonious tune behind tightened lips as she ejected the shiny silver CD from her radio. She twirled it around her slender index digit, humming and swinging her curvy hips all the way to her desk, to her CD case where she silently placed it into any empty laminant slip. Now it's Rukia's turn to freak out.

But she won't. That's just not the Kuchiki _style_.

"It's just that," Rangiku continued, unannounced, unprovoked, "you two have been getting so close lately. I mean, last week I came in on your break and you two were just chatting so casually outside by the door,"

"He was telling me about how his uncle ran his bike into a parked car at the supermarket."

"And you were just laughing so much..."

"His uncle ran his bike into a parked car. He ran his bike into a _parked. Car_."

Now that she's said it to herself, it didn't seem as funny as it did the first time she heard it. "I'm just saying. I think he has a crush on you."

"Crushes are a high school thing, Rangiku."

"You talk like we're _old_ people. I'm still young! I'm beautiful, I'm perky, I like mature men with good looks—"

"And you're like! _Sooo totally_ a cheerleader, and like, a sophomore in college? Oh my gosh, _me _too!"

"Why don't you be a cheerleader with me?" Rangiku purrs sensually as she topples over Rukia's tensing body on top of her mattress, "You can cheer your boyfriend on while he's playing football. Getting all sweaty and hot underneath that uniform. I bet he's ripped." Rukia groaned uncomfortably, twisting and turning underneath Rangiku's heavy physique, "Get off me Matsumoto."

"What's the matter? Getting overheated because I got you thinking about your boy—"

"Say it again," Rukia blurted viciously, "and I'll tear your throat out. Now get off me, so I can get dressed, and get ready for my interview."

"Whatever you say..._Renji lover_!"

-xx-

He's drumming the tips of his finger against solid glass in wait, outside the confines of the warm sweet smelling bakery he's asked Rukia to meet him at for their casual confrontation. She's not late, not even close, hell she's got another 30 minutes before it's even time to appear. So why does he seem so nervous? Fidgety even? _What if she's like Chikane_?

He quickly shakes _that _thought off.

"Can I bring you something while you wait sir?"

He averts his gaze to the perky young woman beside him, she's short and brunette with large brown eyes that gawk at him in all of their glory. It's like she's innocence in it's purest form, if there even is such a thing that still exists, and for some reason he just can't say no to a face like that. His hues scan across her slim silver tag reading "_Hinamori_" before he looks down to his menu, "I guess I'll just have a cup of coffee..."

Coffee? In the Summer time? He has it every morning, but even still to him it seems like such a weird thing. "Hot or iced?"

"Iced, please."

"Mocha, caramel, or vanilla?"

He grinds his teeth together in thought, he has time to waste, "Which do _you _prefer?" The girl taps her shiny black pen against her chin while she hums quietly, "Well. Me personally, since I think coffee is gross—"_  
_

Oh hell no.

"I like to cover it up with lots and lots and loooots of vanilla flavoring and—"

"Vanilla's fine then. Thank you." Ichigo slides the girl his menu with vigor, turning back to his table and massaging his chin with the fingers of his right hand. Someone who hates coffee...how could such a person walk the Earth? Just thinking about it brought on yet another one of his classic migraines. Popping a pill now would only make him look like some kind of drug addict...

He skimmed his elbow across the table top once completing a text message he sent off to Ishida about one of his patient's medical chart's, shuddering once the unearthly _ping _of steel colliding with the stone ground hits his ear drums with full throttle. Now his head _really _hurts. He reaches down to grab it. Lower. Ducking under the table with a low groan and he still can't seem to...is the ground getting farther away from him or something?

Damn this migraine.

"_Mr. Kurosaki_?"

And now he's hearing voices. Great. No, wait a minute—

Ichigo jerked up quickly from his bending position, crashing his head against the underside of the glass table with full force. Surprisingly enough, neither his head, the table, or his resistance to send out a flurry of swear words cracked. His eyes were out of focus now, way too blurry to see whoever had been speaking to him until she spoke again and this time with a bit of concern, "Are you alright!? I didn't mean to startle you—"

"No no. It's okay I'm..." he blinked once. Twice. His eyes finally regaining their 20/20 focus to reveal the female in front of him, who was she anyway? She was petite with a slightly curvy figure and long black hair, those big blue eyes were boring holes straight through his skull. He looked her up and down once, not a wrinkle or a dark spot was in sight. This can't be the woman he's supposed to be interviewing. "Let me get that for you," she said sweetly, crouching down before Ichigo's feet to grab hold of that _pesky _spoon, as Uryuu would say it. And for a moment, he swears he can see the edge of her panties.

They're white.

And lace.

"He..." Ichigo stammered unexpectedly with a sudden dry mouth, where was that damn waitress with his coffee, "hello. Do I know you from somewhere?"

_Please don't be a patient that the hospital accidentally screwed over._

Or worse.

_Please don't be some girl I slept with and left on a one night stand_.

She smiled, small but, it was a smile. "I'm Rukia Kuchiki. We spoke over the phone?"

His mouth opened partially to draw in air but none could be found. Either this _older woman _had exponentially good genes or she was feeding on the souls of babies to keep her skin looking so youthful. He had to admit, it was pale, but it was perfect without a single blemish or red spot in sight. At least not with her clothes on...

_Don't you dare imagine the girl you're about to interview naked, Kurosaki_.

"Ah," he smiled back in a delicate way to hide his inner cringing, "you're a lot. _Younger_. Than I...expected. I think. I mean. How _old _are you exactly— if you don't mind me asking that is!"

"I'm 19. Hanatarou didn't tell you?"

"_No_," Ichigo tilted his head to unorthodox angles from his neck while his smile remained the same, "_he surely didn't_. In fact he said you were _much _older than him—"

"By _two_ _years_?"

"And you've always been good friends with his mom..."

"Yeah," Rukia laughed, "since I was one, and his mom was in her _twenties_. She _always _brought me over, she swore to god I was her own child."

"And you worked for your brother in a corporate setting? With a resume? An _impressive _one?"

"Here's your coffee sir—" Ichigo hushed the girl when he snatched his tall glass away from her without a look, without a thank you, just a stare of desperation for straight forward answers from Rukia. And she was piling them on quicker than he wanted them. "My brother was helping me _build _an impressive resume! He let me work beside him, filing papers and stuff, I got paid, minimum wage. My brother was _Byakuya _Kuchiki? His father was the director of that big life insurance company— _Sakura Blossom Hill_? The billboard is...right there..." she extends her finger to her near left and Ichigo turns in disbelief. There it is, much to his disappointment for not noticing it sooner.

How long has that god damn billboard been there anyway? They must have _just _put that there.

They must have.

This is bad. Acting apprehensively in front of someone he wants to hire, and not even for the very thing he himself _manages_. Everything so far has gone awry. It's gone horribly horribly wrong without 10 minutes of conversation to even make it get to this point of just pure _wrong_. Rukia narrowed her eyes nervously, ducking her head into her shoulders, "_Am I too young for the job_?"

"No— well. I mean, there's not really an...age restriction...it's. Kinda...how should I...put this...you see. I was aiming for hiring an _older _woman for this _certain _position...I mean. Job. Because..." He clamps his hand down around his face in embarrassment, how hard is it to talk to a younger woman? She's only what,

5 years younger than him.

Dragging his palm down his face his eyes flicker, landing directly down on her pert chest. Only for a second because it's out, when she leans forward to pull in her chair as she sits down to the table finally.

He should've been the gentleman to do that.

Damn.

_Again_, he clamped his eyes shut, _don't imagine the girl you're trying to hire naked Kurosaki..._

"Listen," he blurts out, "I'm a physician in my own hospital. I work night shifts, sometimes I work day shifts, I live in a penthouse apartment downtown and until a month ago I had a friend— who was an older woman— who had done housework for me, with pay. _That's _what I called you here for."

Silence. The look on Rukia's face is dumbstruck with a little bit of disbelief.

Was it something he said? "You want me to be a maid?"

"_Housekeep..per..._" he says it as if the word itself changes the meaning. A maid is a maid. She crosses her arms over her chest for a moment, as if _she's_ about to unleash her own bit of interrogating before he starts to, "So wait. You're a doctor, and your _older lady_ _friend_...hold why does it matter so much that you hire an older woman specifically for this job?"_  
_

"Because. I don't want people thinking I'm some kind of pervert."

"I see."

This is awkward. He _is _some kind of pervert. She just hasn't realized it yet. "Listen," Ichigo huffed, "I understand if this changes your mind, if you wanna go fine. Sorry for wasting your time and bringing you all the way out here at this time of day..."

"I'll take the job."

"No I'm serious," he continued, "I'm completely fine with you leavi— what? What? _What_?"

"I, _said_," Rukia reiterated with extra emphasis, "I'll take. The job. That is, if you'll give it to me. I came prepared though, I've got my I.D. my paper work stating I'm a legal citizen..."

He's literally drowning in his own emotion right now, and whether it's showing on the outside or not is beyond him. He doesn't care. It's just the matter of whether or not he can continue sitting here in front of this young woman without crying that's going to be a challenge for him. The thought of him coming home every week day from now on and hearing the beautiful voice of a woman, a _young _woman, not Chikane's constant medieval howls of doom. It's enough to bring a warmth to his cold heart— wait is she still talking?

"Great!" Ichigo vaulted up from his seat, thrusting his hand out at Rukia with the utmost enthusiasm he's ever given in his entire life, "I'm glad we had this talk. You have no idea how much this means to me!"

Shouldn't _she _be the one saying that?

Rukia blinked. Confused. She smiled again, this time bigger because she's laughing at him. Either at how dumb he looks or...just...how _dumb_ he looks with such a big stupid smile on his face. God this girl is cute. "Oh...okay?" She grabbed his hand in her own, which is small and soft against his larger masculine one, "Do I have a schedule or..._uniform_? Something I need to sign?"

Oh. Right.

"Oh jeeze..." He rubbed the back of his scalp awkwardly, "I hadn't even thought about all of that. The first time I even had a housekeeper she just threw herself on me out of the blue...the uniform came later when I started paying her. It just felt wrong having somebody work for you for free y'know? I mean. I can get her uniform modified to fit you tonight, but it won't be ready till about later on tomorrow if you don't mind that, but I'm going to need your body measurements. For the tailors!"

Why does he get so nervous and jumpy like that? Rukia raised an elegant raven brow at him, "Okay. For the tailors. I'll text you them when I get home. Rangiku can take them for me."

Rangiku. Ichigo fidgeted slightly in his eye. Did these two women _live _together? The thought of it took his brain to a whole new level of perverted. He was exploring the world of girl-on-girl erotica, escalating from a simple, "_Hey, can you help take my measurements? My new boss needs them for my uniform..._" to something much MUCH more. It's as if he were watching the movie, he is—mentally of course, live with one of the stars right here. Right in front of him. Except she was clothed.

And staring at him.

Oh god, why was she staring at him?

Was he staring _back _at her? "Okay. Sounds good. You have my number right? From when I called you the first time?"

"Um," Rukia double checked in her cellphone, scrolling through her call history with a flick of her finger against her screen, "Yeah. I've got you right here. I'll save your number in my phone so I have it. But I should get going now...I'll see you later Mr. Kurosaki. Thanks again for the job!"

-xx-

"_Baby Jesus what have I done?_"_  
_

"You've hired a teenage girl to work in your house for the summer," Uryuu spoke nonchalantly as he rested his hands on Ichigo's shoulders, "from what you've told me." He continues to cup his face, groaning, wailing. Running his fingers through his hair and back with his eyes clamped closed as if he'll find redemption in the dark.

Yoruichi is going to _kill _him.

"What am I gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was supposed to hire an older woman, instead I hire this 19 year old girl who— may I add— isn't even finished with _college _yet..."

"I say," Uryuu responded, "you fire Hanataro."

Ichigo paused. "How the hell will that solve my problem?"

"He got you into this mess in the first place."

"Yeah," he murmured into the palm of his hand, "it still doesn't deny the fact that I hired her on the spot. _Dammit_."

"You can always fire her too. Nothing says you can't fire an employee on the first day. Or the second—"

"Get the hell out of my apartment Ishida."

Uryuu shrugged his shoulders, turning away from Ichigo and retrieving his belongings from the island in the middle of his kitchen, "Tomorrow's Saturday Kurosaki. You should think about leaving this place for once, you know, going _outside_. Too much work is never a good thing. Maybe those migraines will go away too once you start getting used to the feel of fresh air." He's right. Ichigo spends most— if not all of his weekend locked up inside of his admittedly impressive apartment hours on end studying patients charts and typing up diagnosis for each separate individual as well as reviewing other charts written by his staff, going over the hours his staff has worked, checking this, checking that...

He slumped down in his leather couch without a word. Just the sound of his front door closing, which he didn't even bother to get up and lock. Nobody ever comes anyway. Once he's _sure _Uryuu is gone without the option of returning, he reaches in his pocket to retrieve his cellphone, returning to his unalerted inbox screen.

His sleepy eyes drag across the screen slowly, heavily, looking for something, a specific thing from someone...bingo. He holds it there in front of his face for several seconds, mumbling to himself as he reads the words softly out loud, and then—

It's over. His hand drops back down to the side of his left thigh to the cushion of the couch, loosely gripping his cellphone with an open text from Rukia Kuchiki on the screen as he goes over the measurements in his head with a mental tape measure. "_So...would that make her...about a B cup?_ _Right? But then her hips are..._" He releases his grip on his phone, allowing it to fall through the crevice of his couch cushions while he holds his hands out in front of his out stretched and a specific number of inches distanced apart from one another.

Wide.

He slapped his hands back down to his burning face, groaning in despair, "_What are you doing...?_"

It's 9 o clock. There's nothing to do on a weekend but wait for tomorrow to pick up an old uniform.

It's time for bed, Ichigo Kurosaki.

***NOTE: HNNNG. Alright. I couldn't wait for that. TvT Honestly, I think I published this too early! I should've just written out the whole thing and _then _published it, yeah? Yeah. Would've been better for all of us. I'll do that next time— or I might even do that with the rest of the fic.**

**It's never too late!**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter with Ichigo's inner thrashings and pervy wonderland thoughts.**

**Review review review!**


	4. Chapter 3

_Customer 53 Kurosaki, Ichigo. This is a message from Karakura tailors concerning your drop-off from yesterday. It's been three hours and you need to come pick it up._

_You *need* to come pick it up._

He overslept.

He _really _overslept, looking over to the clock of his microwave and reading 12:42am aloud in his head.

_Dammit!_

He jumps up and down on one foot, struggling to get the other into his dark denim jeans while he's holding his cellphone in between his teeth. Which has barely got a charge to it.

He forgot to bring it with him into his room last night when he got up from the couch.

Idiot.

He bolted around the couch, he _just _missed hitting his toe on the edge by a mere inch, only to crush another one against the sleek ebony leg of his grand piano nearest to the wall. If anyone could see him from below up to the 40th floor outside, they would swear he was a mad man, thrashing himself about on his white carpet and cursing to the top of his lungs...

"Un-fucking-_believable..._!"

He's a basket case, that Ichigo Kurosaki.

Once he's sheathed himself inside of the second leg of his jeans he jerks them up to his waist and buttons them, dragging the zipper up it's track and running back for his bedroom up the curved structural build of his penthouse stairs, they're shielded by an outer wall painted jet black, like all of them in his place. It's no wonder he can keep himself in shape with a place like this. Not to mention his morning runs, which he's missed, _sleeping_.

This is pathetic.

He slid across his carpet at first, banging his head upon the edge of his nightstand and having his wallet and silver wrist watch fall unto his chest. Unplanned but, it _is _what he needed. It's time to wake up, fully, the day's just begun for Ichigo Kurosaki. It's no longer morning but it's a start.

A bad one at that.

Ichigo swears savagely at himself for not waking sooner, falling down to his bed in exhaustion. Patting down on his sheets to make sure they were flat. _Just in case_.

He never knew when he had a woman in bed with him, sometimes they just wound up there. He swore they would creep in through his window. Which seemed inevitably impossible seeing as to how his penthouse was at the very top floor of the condominium complex. But he's met some crazy ones in his lifetime, ones who would walk a thousand miles on foot— through a sea of broken glass— just to get some of that Kurosaki lovin'. He gave himself a mental congratulatory pat on the back at the thought, then sneered once he realized...

those women were _complete_ psychopaths.

Ones who would call him every single waking moment of his life, and stalk him too. Not to mention, they were always the most beautiful. Damn his inability to read women past their good looks...

Just. Damn it all.

He'll never forget his last encounter with a good looking woman, Lala was her name. Her surname hadn't been as important to him as opposed to what she looked like with no top on that night. He slept with her, _once_, boy that was a night. A night of name calling, hours of blonde hair pulling and skin on skin slapping— he pushed himself down on the groin to remain stable. But then, he woke up to her.

Still in his bed.

She _stayed _there for the entire day, as if the concept of casual meet-and-greet hello-goodbye sex hadn't made a difference to her. It petrified him. Especially on the third day when she would flaunt him about her friends and refer to him as her "_lover_" and he would go:

But I don't even know you.

Oh. And Karin absolutely despised that woman.

Good times. Good times. Not really though. This isn't a time to be recollecting on his past train wrecks with good looking women, now's the time for panic. Now's the time for making himself look like an idiot inside of his own home rather than going out into public and doing it.

But recollecting is fun, isn't it?

He skims across his memory until he's at a point in his life where he's younger, a junior in college with a degree in general medicine already as it is, and a girlfriend named Onna. _This_ girl was a looker, with lavender hair that stretched to her thighs, which were admirably thick and proportionate to the rest of her body. Her curves were unlike those of any girl he'd seen, well, except for Orihime's. Her breasts were bigger than Orihime's though, perhaps a cup or two larger in fact. She looked so innocent behind those red framed glasses with tiny bows on the hinges, however.

Looks can be very _very _deceiving.

He remembers the afternoon they spent coming up with ideas for the Karakura festival, a night he'll never forget in that cramped little space of a classroom. That girl practically _threw _herself onto him, all he remembers is his back against the table and a pair of very... buoyant breasts are bouncing on top of his lap and around his—

what time is it again?

"Damn," Ichigo flew across his bed to roll onto the other side and thrust his feet unto the plush carpeting. He tore open his closet doors, plucking out the first thing he sees inside— a crew neck t-shirt with a breast pocket. It's a light blue color on top, fading into a darker deep oceanic blue. It's that ombre effect kids are going oh so crazy for nowadays. Oh well. Casual will have to do.

He pulls his t-shirt on over his head, sliding his feet into the comfortable fur lining of his khaki moccasin slip-ons as his brain unscrambles the order that today's events should go in.

Pick up uniform. Call Rukia. Work.

Then?

_Man, _he inwardly cursed himself, _my life is really fucking boring_. "Alright Kuchiki. I've already gone through this much trouble for you. Let's see how much you make for me down the road..."

-xx-

"_Sooo_?"

Rukia rolled her eyes in botheration, looking away from Rangiku while she sipped up the refreshing cool mint tea through a straw into her dry mouth, "How was the interview?"

It's like she really did want Rukia out of her apartment, as much as she denied it.

"It went," she paused, dragging her straw along the bottom of her cup, "well."

"Well? How well?"

"I got the job."

"It went great then!"

There she goes, getting excited again. That was something you had to get used to around Rangiku, the way she over exaggerated about small things, it was something that could scare one into a heart attack if they weren't careful. "Would you like a refill ma'am?" Rukia turned her gaze to meet that of a familiar face, it was the waitress from yesterday. Hinamori...Hinamori...

"Momo!" Rangiku chirped joyfuly, grabbing at the young woman's tender fingers, "I didn't know you worked here. How've you been? I barely even see you on campus now!" _She goes to our school? _Now that Rangiku brings it up, this girl does have a familiar face. Maybe it's her hair that's different. At work she wears it down so it brushes her shoulders, it frames her rounded rosy cheeks quite nicely...now she sees it. Rukia parts her lips to allow herself to inhale in realization, pinching at her chin a bit to recollect harder about how this girl looks at school...

To begin with, her work uniform is...

burgundy button up shirt with gold buttons and the cafe's name stitched in elegant gold scribble on her left breast, a black skirt with a dark gray apron tied around her waist to hold her pens and notepads, and black thigh-highs with gold rings an inch down from the very top. Now the clothes she wears to _school_. Even uniforms like this, boring with a sort of elegant dash into it, screams pizzazz compared to this girl's common wardrobe. Not that Rukia cares. School isn't about fashion, it's about learning so you can get the fuck out.

That's what she believes even though Byakuya has told her otherwise.

"Yeah," Momo giggled lightly, "I work night shifts now. My boss is a real hard pressed guy, so he doesn't go easy on me! But I still get the work done at school."

"Poor girl," Rangiku pouted, caressing Momo's pale skin on her hand, "that jerk. Who is that guy anyway? I always see him out by his little fancy car smoking some cigar like he's a big shot or something."

"That's Mr. Aizen," she responded. Her voice took a tone of whimsy, almost as if she absolutely idolized the man for his _hard pressiveness_, "he's a kind man really. I don't mind working under him— I mean _for_ him!" Momo snatched her hand back from the grasp of Rangiku, slapping it against her lips, shutting them sealed.

That was weird.

She flashed her grayish-blue hues once at Rukia in confusion, and she only shrugged, "I have to...go...handle a spill inside!" Momo cried.

"Oh...okay..." Rangiku stammered, "I'll see you Tuesday then. Take care."

"_What was that about_?" Both women watched as the flustered damsel brushed away and back into the cafe with her circular black tray pressed to her face. She was embarrassed. She was _more _than embarrassed. Was it something she said? Rangiku's eyes widened and returned to their normal size afterwards with a shake of her beautiful head, "I have no idea. I think she just got shy in the middle of her sentence."

"About working _under _her boss?" Rukia raised an inquisitive brow.

Rangiku looked up, raising her brow as well. Both women knew exactly where they were going with this. "Stop," she hushed her, swiping at her hand on the table, "Momo's a good girl. She's innocent. If anything it was a slip of the tongue and she realized how perverted people's minds can get and she felt the need to correct herself. I doubt she'd do anything as exciting as sleeping with her boss."

"_Exciting_?"

"You don't think that would be exciting?" Rangiku leaned back in her black steel chair until the front legs rose from the ground, "Think about it. When the— let's just say, _common man—_" she quoted in air with her fingers, "thinks of a woman, he feels that he's always the superior right? I mean, come on. Why do you think that 90 percent of the time in an abusive relationship the woman is the one taking the toll?"

"Because she put herself in that situation," Rukia responded flatly. Rangiku rolled her eyes, "Because the man sees her as his _inferior _half! It's like Adam and Eve, how Adam came first and then Eve had been created from him, or something like that."

"I'm not religious."

"Neither am I but the point is, men think they have all the power. But what they don't ever think to consider, is that a woman has the most powerful weapon of all, and it never leaves their presence. You see where I'm going with this?" She shot Rukia a suggestive look, raising one brow higher than the other. Rukia blinked. What the hell was this woman talking about, "No."

"The power of the 'V'!"

"The power of the _who_?"

"The '_V_'!"

"Who's '_V_'?"

"Good Lor—" She flew back to the table with her hands thrusted hard into the glass, "_va—gi—na_."

Oh. That V.

"Don't you get it? As long as we have a vagina, we pretty much rule the whole damn planet. Men don't stand a chance against our wrath! Seducing and sleeping with your man-boss could _definitely _have its benefits. Higher pay, better treatment, plus if it's good—"

"Can we get back to the part where sleeping with your boss is supposed to be exciting and skip right to the point?"

"That's why! I've decided to gather a group of willing women around campus to conduct Karakura University's very own— _Karakura women's association _club!"

"So you all caaaaan," Rukia narrowed her eyes, shaking her head from side to side in befuddlement. Honestly, what was this woman going on about? "Sleep with your bosses and gather 'round to talk...a...bout...it?" She lost her. Rangiku has driven Rukia to the farthest outskirts of Karakura, kicked her out the car without a map, gps, or cellphone, driven off at full speed and completely _lost _her out of bounds. Whatever was going on in Matsumoto's head she hoped, _stayed _ in that crazy woman's head. All this talk about the battle of the sexes...what? What's that about? "Can I ask you something, Rangiku?"

"Go for it."

"Have you ever slept with one of _your _bosses?"

Silence. Rangiku swept her finger along the sleek glass of the table, mumbling, "No."

"You know, not all men are like that though...I mean. From what I've heard. I mean. Hiyori 'n Shinji are goin' pretty steady..."

"Yeah right! Like Shinji has a choice. That girl would skin him alive if he ever even _glanced _at another woman..."

Good god, what if the fate of the world ever came to rest on the shoulders of this woman? Let us pray. Rukia shook her head. "Speaking of bosses, you never told me about yours. What kinda guy is he? What's he look like anyway?" She shrugged indefinitely. As if she could get a good look. Half of the time he was under the table, the other half his hand was over his face or he was so flustered or confused he was staring down at his silverware—

Wait a minute. What's that strikingly orange bundle of spikes doing walking down the street with that bag under his arm...

Her eyes widened in dismay. What if Rangiku saw him? He was impossible to miss, in broad daylight with _that _hair? He might as well have been driving down the sidewalk in a firetruck with the sirens blaring. She turned her head slightly— "_He's_," Rukia blurted to catch her attention before she could finish her full head rotation, "he's. Alright." She found herself stricken with relief when Rangiku turned back to stare at her in confusion, "Alright? What do you mean _alright_? He's either cute or he's not, which one is he?"

"I told you, he's alright."

"Whatever you say..."

_No no no no— _it's too late. She can hear the thread of her own patience running thin, she can no longer impede on Rangiku any longer once the woman has made contact with Ichigo from afar. He doesn't see her, but she _definitely _sees him staring down at his cellphone and walking straight ahead. She waits for Rangiku to embarrass her like she always does, to call him over and pummel him with question after question after question leading up to the point where she asks him for his number and, God knows what happens after that.

Flirt.

"What a weird hair style," Rangiku grinds out between short chuckles. _That's it_? Rukia exhales a sigh of relief, it makes sense though. It's not like she can see how he looks from this far away anyway...now she can evade the question about how her boss looks with ease...

"Have you ever looked at someone and wondered what their moan sounds like?"

"_What?_"

Fucking horny college hormones.

-xx-

She never thought she would've been so happy to see the walls of this apartment as long as she lived to walk the carpeting of it as she entered the cool _air conditioned _living space. Her purse was the first to fall, straight from her hand and beside the glass coffee table topped with scattered textbooks and a laptop still open with a half empty mug of— whatever the hell she was drinking this morning before she and Rangiku walked out the apartment. Then, she too collapsed, right unto the alleviation of an off-white bean bag seat placed upon the messy floor nearest to the table...

It's so cool. It feels so fucking good.

She doesn't want to get up.

Rangiku too. She walks in, sighing, closing the door behind her and pulling at the neck of her shirt to air out her breasts. God knows they're suffocating in there, "Hey Rukia?"

"_Hm_?"

"Let up a window or something will ya?"

It's obviously apparent that she isn't going to when she doesn't respond, but simply kicks off her brown sandals and wiggles herself deeper into the softness of the bean bag. Rangiku huffed, squinting her eyes into a thin, deadly line.

Bitch.

She walks to one of the windows in her apartment, the closest one to where Rukia lied, unlatching the bottom and sliding it up with a swift movement. Both women moaned in indescribable bliss when the first gust of air hit, kissing against their sweat drenched skin. If this wasn't the hottest summer ever recorded in the history of Karakura...jesus christ. "Alright," Rangiku sighed, "where's that fan I bought last week? Did you put it in the closet like I asked you to?"

She nodded.

She went to retrieve it, leaving Rukia to the peace and quiet of her small quaint living room for only a few seconds. Returning with the silver osculating fan, she jammed the prongs into the outlet on the opposite wall to Rukia to activate it, then hit the switch, "Damn it's hot..."

"_How hot is it_?"

Rukia knows if she answers all Rangiku's going to do is throw some god awful pun she's heard off tv from some god awful comedian at her. She knows it. So she does the simple thing,

she ignores her.

"You dead or something, Ruk?"

"Just shut up and keep the air blowing."

Rangiku scoffs, crawling along the white carpeting of her apartment until she reaches the bean bag in which Rukia resides and mumbles softly, "_You're no fun_." She rested her head on the other side, closing her eyes and exhaling. It's quiet now.

Too quiet.

Both girls are completely exhausted, and it's only 3 on a Saturday afternoon. The only sound that can be heard from a stray ear is that of their soft and steady breathing and the fan's blades slicing through the air and supplying them with a cool current. It's peaceful this way. It's...

it's awkward this way.

"Ran?" Rukia groused, fed up with the overwhelming silence. Which was odd considering that most of the time she couldn't stand the sound of Rangiku's voice. "_Hm_?" She replied tiredly, shifting slightly on the cushioning of the bean bag. "Remember how you asked me at the cafe...if I had ever looked at someone and imagined what their moan sounded like?"

"_Mhm_."

Rukia inhaled softly through her nose, "I have."

Silence.

"Who?"

"Remember that really pale kid we used to go to high school with who never talked to anybody?"

"The one everyone said looked really emo?"

"Yeah," Rukia responded, turning on her back against the cushion, "he would always wear that weird green makeup under his eyes..."

"_Wait—_" Rangiku spoke slowly, but louder now that she'd realized where the conversation had been headed to, "you mean..._seriously_?" Seriously. She tilted her head ever so slightly to an angle in which the tiny specks on Rangiku's white ceiling made a design in Rukia's head, a small one. One that...didn't particularly make much sense to her, but it worked in her mind, "I don't...know why. He just seemed so mysterious to me. It's like the first time I saw him I couldn't look away from those eyes...and he would just look back at me and just...not _talk_. It was weird. It's like from that point on I've wondered what his voice sounded like, and then one day it just occurred to me that...I don't know...maybe...his _moans_ are nice?"

More silence.

"He probably sounds like a horse."

"What the _hell_?"

Rangiku sniggered, covering her lips with her hand, "I'm just saying! Maybe that's why he doesn't talk, his voice could be all out of whack or something weird like that. But you know who _I've_ always wondered about...? You know the guy in our Business course. He's kinda short, with the white hair—"_  
_

"_Toushiro_?"

"Bingo," she purred in pleasure, dragging her nails down the smooth material of the bean bag, "he's such a cutie. He's a bit of a hard ass, but...it must be a white hair thing...I dunno. I always find myself attracted to that sort of guy." Rukia smirked shortly for a moment in thought, squinting her eyes. What _would _he sound like? Did she really honestly wanna know? "Do you ever...think about Ichimaru?"

She paused. Rukia did too. "Screw Gin."

Wrong topic to bring up, no?

She turned over to her back with her hands locked behind her head, "I haven't seen that bastard in...god. I _hate _him. He's always leaving and showing back up with that big stupid smile and...I just. I don't even want to...think about...him..." Her voice softens and her head shifts to the side so she's staring at the legs of her coffee table. And for some reason, her heart is throbbing painfully now. Rukia's covered with a thin sheet of guilt, biting down on her lip as she shuffles through her head for a quick change of topic—

"I wonder what that Hanataro guy sounds like," Rangiku laughed softly to herself, turning her head up so she's face with the top of Rukia's. She tilts hers up as well so their hues connect, blinking in suspense, waiting as if she herself is supposed to concoct an answer for her statement, "I...wouldn't really..."

"Probably sounds like a hamster."

Rukia snorted, jerking up from the bean bag and locking her arms around her stomach as her entire body is thrusted into a series of violent laughter. Rangiku laughs as well, turning over on her cushion and placing her hand beside her face with her eyes slightly open.

Staring off into her room with gazeless eyes.

She's back to normal, but she isn't really. But Rukia doesn't have to know.

***NOTE: Ok, so this chapter had a little bit of Ichigo and his morning troubles, because we all have them. God knows I do oh my lawdy. And then the rest is some Rangiku and Rukia interaction! I love these two female characters, not to mention Momo, I think she's just adorable y'knowwww? The conversation they had is _god honestly_ conversation I've had with a best friend of mine at Starbucks...we're a couple of weirdos aren't we? I was like Rukia just sitting there listening to her screech on about how her vagina is almighty and her boss is just so amazingly godly attractive...and it was just...I just love her ok. People from other tables stared at us like, dafuq?**

** ANYWAY, I don't want to get any reviews about the entire "battle of the sexes" thing that happened in this chapter...it's nothing insulting towards any gender, alright? I respect men and women who deserve it, and I do so _equally_. It's just a fiction. No offense was meant by this chapter to anyone!**

**Sheesh!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Review review review!**


	5. Chapter 4

_How the hell did I wind up here of all places...?_

Ichigo grimaced lightly. He stood before a residence which he knew all too well, relishing in his old memories. It's old but it's new at the same time with Yuzu's girlish touches on the outside. For instance, the small rose garden leading up the trail to the front door is a definite add-on. The tall neatly trimmed hedge beside it was short, only long enough so it cut off half way between the end point of the rose bed and the front door, the entire garden itself had been surrounded by gray stone. The sign that once read _Kurosaki clinic_ has been taken down, making the house look..._normal_.

This is home.

The intake of air through his nose is enough to fill his lungs to the point of bursting, his heart is just racing so incredibly quick. _Why am I so nervous_? He ground out a tiny grunt of indecisiveness, turning away from the house and back to the street where he looks up and down it at the all too familiar setting. How many years has it been? His eyes close in despair and his head drops, reopening to find...

is that a cigarette?

He moves his foot slightly out of the way, it sure is. A cigarette butt from a brand he doesn't recognize, which is only expected because he doesn't smoke. He _hated _the things. It's crushed in their driveway— Yuzu and Karin's driveway. And suddenly, his heart is set ablaze.

_Does Karin or Yuzu...how long have I been away?_

"Aw, _fuck_." He moaned, rather loudly too, looking over across the street at an old lady walking her overly fluffed almost fake looking dog with a big red bow on it's head. Poor thing. This is awkward. He chuckled nervously, waving his hand, "Hello..."

She turned her nose up to him, dragging her dog away just as it's beginning to sniff the pole of a stop sign on the corner.

_Rude_.

That's it then. He's made his choice. He swivels around, back in the direction of the house and heads up the length of the driveway with his car keys jingling loudly in his hand. They're the only thing keeping his mind from going back to that cigarette. It's probably just some passerby who dropped it and burned it out in the driveway while walking by the house...yeah, that's it. He finally makes it to the shabby brown welcome mat in front of the bright mint colored door, giving it two solid knocks and holding his breath. Maybe he'll be dead before they answer...

The door opens slowly, suspenseful almost, and a slim peachy arm stretches out to grasp the frame before the rest of the body is unveiled from behind it. He releases a heavy exhale of relief, he's not dead, that's always a good thing, and Yuzu is smiling so hard at him. Oh god she looks like she's about to explode. "Ichigo!" She cried, pummeling him with her dainty body. Damn she's strong for a small woman, almost knocked him to the ground.

He stumbled back, locking his arms around her and laughing for a moment until he's caught his breath, "Long time no see, huh?"

"Like hell." A voice protrudes into the happy moment happening before the doorstep of the Kurosaki residence. He looks up from the top of Yuzu's silky light brown head, nearly _flying _backwards into the_ god damn_ street once he sees Karin. What the hell is this? And _when_ did she start cursing!? She stands there, with her arms crossed. She looks so...angry. Maybe that's just the scowl that Ichigo's inherited for some odd reason. In his eyes, this _can't _be his sister, little Karin couldn't have possibly grown and turned into...into...

The woman in the door with both sides of her head shaved and the top cut short with her bangs swept to the side over her dark round eyes. Not the woman with the metal earrings in her upper right lobe, and the silver tunnels in both her earlobes that are stretching them only a teensy tiny little bit. Not the woman with the red lips, the red nails, the spaghetti strap black camisole showing off her waistline and dark red plaid tie in the front short shorts, the one wearing the black socks that stretch to her knees with the freaking holes in them.

Why is she wearing them!? They're ripped!

Ichigo wants to snatch Yuzu off her feet and carry her half way across the lawn, point a finger out and scream, "_Who the hell are you_" at Karin. But he knows that's a bit much. But oh my _god _she's changed a lot. "Karin!" Yuzu nearly choked when she turned around, slapping her hands to her dark red cheeks, "Don't come out like that in front of brotherrr! You're practically naked—"

"Relax. It's not like Ichigo hasn't seen a woman in his life before."

Ouch.

Unlike Yuzu, Karin was somewhat _aware _of some the women Ichigo brought home with him when he did. Lala was only one of the few females she's met on unexpected pop up visits, and completely down right to the pit of her stomach _despised_. Simply because she was easy. Yeah, that was it. He felt somewhat uncomfortable around her now that it's been brought to his mind like this, rubbing the back of his neck in unease, "That's how you're gonna greet your brother?"

She raised her brow.

Guess so.

"Idiot," Karin spat, running out the door with her arms outstretched. She wrapped them around him, giving his body a hard squeeze while Yuzu does the same from behind him. The love is strong at the Kurosaki house,

ok maybe too strong. Now he can't breathe. "_Alright_," he rasped, "_I get it. I missed you guys too..._"

"Come in!" Yuzu insisted, yanking Ichigo along inside of the house by his wrist, as if he has a choice. Karin follows, closing and locking the front door behind them as Ichigo stops in the center of the entrance to gaze. Things have _really _changed. The house is elegant, the walls have all been repainted a soft blue color and where their mother's poster hung there is now an area with a shelf for their keys, a mirror, and a small table with picture frames and a bowl of candy for guests. The kitchen has been remodeled completely to Yuzu's taste, with stainless steel and white marbling here and there, it's very...modern.

The living room, where the big leather couch had once been outstretched in the center, now there's a smaller couch with a white fur covered throw pillow on each side of the black couch. A glass coffee table in the center, two black arm chairs on either side, side tables beside the couch, and a large picture of their mother hanging above it. Yeah. That's a better way to display her. The lamps set beside the side tables are sleek and silver, tall with an industrial design, probably something Karin chose to her liking. Across from all of this hung a 40 inch flat screen tv over a fire place built into the wall— that's new.

Ichigo blinked. If this was just the living room, God knows what the rest of the house looks like. "Wow," the only word he could muster as he stares mindlessly at his surroundings, "you guys are managing well...without me. Aren't you now?"

Karin and Yuzu glanced at one another, silently. "Well, it was nice of you to drop by! We haven't seen you in a while," Yuzu sprang out once more. For a woman in her twenties her attitude remained so tirelessly childish. She swung around so her long locks of light brown flowing to the center of her back followed her every movement as she trotted along into her beloved kitchen, "Would you like some cheesecake? It's a day old, but it's still good!"

Of course. It's Yuzu's food, it's going to be good. It's going to be great. "Sure," Ichigo said, snaking his arm around Karin's shoulder and pulling her into his chest playfully. She shoved against him with a smirk, prying away from him as she too joined Yuzu in the kitchen, standing beside the french door stainless steel refrigerator, "Yuzu made it just for you, Ichigo—"

How could she have? They had no idea he was coming...

"it's strawberry."

_Oh. _That pissed him off more than anything when people made the mistake of calling him _strawberry_. He twitched nervously, running his digits through spikes of orange before sighing, "Funny. Funny thing you did there." Karin chuckled mockingly. "I made it for Karin's friends when they came over yesterday! She's been booked all night DJing for some really big parties around Karakura! Can you believe it?"

No. He can't, well. Actually...

He scans her up and down once more.

Probably.

Karin flicks her tongue out at him teasingly, at first he believes his eyes are deceiving him, and then—

he's faced with the sudden urge to want to fly over the kitchen table and rip that little fucking silver barbell right out of her tongue.

Just then— he's stricken with a bolt of realization. He's forgotten to do number _two _on his things to do today list. He has yet to call Rukia. He reaches in his pocket for his iPhone 4s, flipping it in his palm to face the screen—

dead.

Oh god dammit.

"Do you guys have a charger for an iPhone?" He asks his sisters. They look at each other again with a shrug, "_I have a Samsung Galaxy s4_." They spoke in unison. Creepy stuff, some twins do. Just then Ichigo turned around to notice _both _their phones on the kitchen counter. The black one in the dark purple casing with the small kawaii monster face and devil horns had to be Karin's. The white one with the pink case of a bunny wrapping it's paws around the phone and it's ears poking out the top, Yuzu's. It was obvious. He knew his sisters.

"_Right_," he grumbled lowly, dropping his hands to his sides. "Is there somebody you had to call important? You can use the house phone—"

"No, it's fine."

He doesn't know the number by heart, and there's no way he can check it with a phone that's powering off as they speak. Yuzu pouts slightly as she cuts Ichigo a thick slice of the firm glistening cheesecake, giving him the one with the last big strawberry on top. Oh how special he feels. She slid it onto a plate, setting the cake knife back onto the damp towel she left sitting on the kitchen counter, she lifted the plate into her small hands, "Here you go. A big piece just for you!" He smiled as he took the plate, the way Yuzu looked sometimes when she handed over her food to other people was just so priceless. It's almost like she's about to cry, like she's giving away her child or something. Classic Yuzu.

Ichigo slides up into one of the tall stools set up in front of the kitchen bar where Yuzu is cleaning up the knife and covering up the rest of the cheesecake, "If you like it, you can take the rest home with you!" That would be nice, having a little bit of home in his lonely penthouse. He took his first bite slowly, pulling his lips away from his fork as if they're adhered by the stickiness of the cheesecake. He swears his eyes are rolling back in his head.

Oh fuck it's good.

Yuzu's food to Ichigo is at the point now to where it has reached the equivalent of sex, if not, it's definitely better. He clamps his legs shut, just in case he's beginning to show a little bit of _indecency _while indulging in his sister's food, "Like it?"

"Oh god yes," he moaned passionately as he went in for another bite, turning his fork upside down between his lips, "_mmmm_."

"Disgusting."

"Eh!?" Yuzu whipped around to look at Karin with big, woeful eyes, "Not the cake! The way he's eating it..."

"Oh," Yuzu exhaled in relief, "okay. That's better." Ichigo stared for a while at the both of them, at what fine young women they've grown up to be. Karin being the eccentric and outgoing character that she was, and obviously a successful DJ. And Yuzu sprouting up to be the beautiful charismatic young woman they all knew she was going to turn out to be. It's just...that...he had been away for so long. There's a gaping hole in between the time he left for college when they were still only young girls to this point right here, right now.

He looks to the remodeled stove, flashing back to the time when it was their old, ordinary stove. Yuzu is standing on a white stool with a pink apron on over her casual house dress, her hair is short and pulled back into two equal length pigtails on the bottom of her head. She's holding a ladle, with her hand wrapped around the handle of a big pot boiling with something in it on the stove. Something delicious as expected of Yuzu. She's turned back with her mouth open as if she's speaking to Karin who is sitting at the kitchen table with her arm thrown over the back of her chair. She has her black hair, all of it, cropped short to her shoulders and the back is pulled up into a ponytail. She's actually smiling. In a plain gray t-shirt and red shorts. Probably insulting their father, and Yuzu has turned around to say something...

And Isshin. He's rounding the corner on the other side of the room, in one of his goofy Hawaiian inspired shirts with the stiff collars. God Ichigo hated those damn things. That scruffy face never stopped smiling, even now in Ichigo's conscious he's...

It's only a flashback. Only a picture in his head. Right here and right now is what's reality, and everything he's missed is something he'll never be able to gain memory of. Even if he wanted to. Even if he...

"Ichigo?"

"_Hm_?" Ichigo snapped back out of his trance, blinking wildly at both Karin and Yuzu who are now staring at him with their big curious eyeballs. He hated when they did that. They always used to do that when they were young, either when they wanted something, or when they were both trying to pry information out of him. _God_. "What's wrong with you? You look like you saw a ghost or something..."

"Ghost!?" Yuzu swung around with the knife in her hand, Karin quickly grabbed her wrist, "Just an expression, Yuzu."

"Ah."

"I'm fine," Ichigo insisted, looking down at his empty plate in slight shock. He hadn't even realized he'd finished it. Was he really that far gone? He lowered himself down from the bar, patting off his jeans, "You're leaving?" Yuzu whined softly, "Already?"

"Yeah," Ichigo sighed, "I should go. I've got some work to do and..."

"Won't you stay for a little bit longer?" She blared pleadingly at him, clasping her hands together and flashing him those big brown eyes. Damn, he could never say no to that...

-xx-

_My back hurts. _

_My head hurts._

_My chest feels so heavy...and why does...it smell like cigarettes? _

Ichigo groaned, exhaustedly, hissing in pain when he moves his head slightly with a crick in his neck. He looks to his left at the black leather couch exterior close to his face, then off to his right at the brightly illuminated television, unable to make out what's on the screen. His eyes are still heavy and fuzzy from sleep. He thought shifting about a little would ease the heaviness on his chest, but it doesn't and he groused intensely, "_What the fu—_"

It's Karin. She's lying down, sleeping on his chest. Her body is outstretched along his, with her head right up on his left shoulder. Yuzu is on his right doing the same, but her head is resting on his right breast instead, while her leg is thrown across his waistline, raising her dress to show her bright purple panties.

This is wrong.

This probably looks really wrong to an outsider's eye, if an outsider were to look in. Him in between both of his adult sisters, the both of them in almost next to nothing with their bodies all over him like it's just fine— oh what the hell? There's nothing wrong with this. It's just two loving sisters who miss their older brother dearly, and when he's finally come to visit their only wish is to be close to him. He only feels that it's wrong because, let's face it.

Ichigo Kurosaki is, and has been, sexually frustrated for the past_ 2 weeks_.

_I'm disgusting. _He pinches the skin on his forehead, kneading it thoroughly with soft breaths, "_Dammit_..." He doesn't want to move, he doesn't want to disturb or wake them from their slumber, but. He pulls his arms up to the top of the couch, just gently enough so he's sure he's not going to wake them, rising up with his hands against the cushioning. Once he's in sitting position, he swung his left leg over his right, and Yuzu, bringing his body sideways over her so that her leg can slide off his waist with ease.

Well played.

His skill of sleeping with women and averting them the next day comes in handy even in situations like these. Still even _that _slightly bothered him. He should at least say goodbye before... A quick thought grazes the surface of his brain. He heads for the staircase, still the same as it was several years ago, the only difference is the new white carpeting and the paintings hanging on the walls on the way up. He gently moves down the hallway, looking at each door to each of the rooms until he's found one in specific.

His own.

Or it used to be. He inhales, holding his breath as he pushes it open to reveal the inside. It's probably an office for Yuzu by now. Or a studio for Karin—

his blood thickens and the breath is literally pulled right out of him. He's drawn in, one footstep after the other further and further into the small room until he's inside dead center, staring around in the dark. It's...it's...it's _exactly_ the same.

"Yuzu didn't want to touch it when you left."

Ichigo turned his head to the door with Karin standing in it. She's staring at him blankly, walking in with slow steady steps until she's beside him, "She really missed you y'know. She left it this way. She thought you were coming back." A sharp pain stabbed at his heart relentlessly, "I know."

"If you knew," she continued, her voice getting colder and colder, "then why didn't you ever come?"

"I don't..." he paused, "know."

Karin stood silent. _He _stood silent. She sighed and lowered her head, "You've changed. You know that? You used to be all about family, all about friends. Now everything is just..."

Silence. Ichigo wanted to say something, he wanted to deny everything that she had said so far but...she walked away. She walked away and headed out the door, stopping inside the threshold, "You can go. I'll tell Yuzu in the morning that there was an emergency at the hospital," she said. Ichigo kept his stare down to his feet, unprepared for her final words—

"Maybe then, she won't cry as much."

_Fuck _that hurt. It hurt a lot. He winced before shutting his eyes completely, biting down on his bottom lip until it was cold. _Guess I deserved that_. His eyes opened, gliding over to his desk and the stuffed animal lion lying down on it beside his neat stack of text books. He raised his brows for a moment, trying to remember what he named that damn thing...

Ah, that's right. Kon. He's surprised Yuzu hasn't...but that's right. Yuzu hadn't touched anything. Yuzu wanted things to be perfect for when he came back. And they are.

But he didn't.

He turned away from his room, walking out the door and closing it, heading for the stairs and running down before any other dreadful thought crept into his already dark head. Making his way back into the living room, Yuzu is still sleeping on the couch. He fixes her dress so it covers her completely, and places a firm kiss on her forehead before pulling away—

"Don't go..." She grabbed the collar of his shirt suddenly, softly in her tired fist. Ichigo's eyes widened, "I..." he choked. What would he say? "I have to go. There's an emergency at the hospital..." Yuzu drew silent, receding her hand from his shirt and bringing it back down to her chest. Ichigo reached down to touch her arm, wait a minute. Is she...trembling? She is.

She's crying.

"Hey," he shook her lightly, "what's that? Stop crying. A woman doesn't cry over little things...I'll be back to visit soon, okay?"

No response. She only bit her lip, brushing her hand across her cheek to dry them of her sopping tears before turning on her side, away from Ichigo. He drew back in appall, slipping his hand away from her skin and back to his pocket. What should he say? What _could _he say? "_Hello_?" He overheard Karin's distant speaking, glancing over to her in the kitchen turned sideways with her cellphone on the other side so he couldn't see. She looked to him, putting her hand over the transmitter and mouthing, "_Just go_."

Okay. He decided, enough was enough. He's hurt enough people already, his sisters were the last people he wanted to stick around to see hurting because of him. He lifted the remote into his hand, pressing the small blue _guide _button to pull up the on-screen menu on the television and check the time. 12:06 am. Damn. He'd better go.

Out of the living room and into the kitchen, he makes his way to the door until, Karin stops him, with something in her hand. It's a container, large and round with the plastic top surrounding it shaped like a dome. Yuzu's cheesecake. He takes it, watching as she turns away from him. Getting a quick look at her cellphone.

Covered in a _pink bunny_ casing.

One of two things he's realized when it's suddenly hit his brain as he exits the house that he now knows why Yuzu had cried. He knows why she turned away, why she ignored him when he'd said "_There was an emergency at the hospital_". How the hell would he know? How would he have been able to find out?

His phone was dead.

He threw his head back, cursing at the blackened heavens with thick groans of despair. _My life, _he thought to himself with an inward hatred, _fucking sucks._

***NOTE: I present to you, the Kurosakis! Not in their happiest of moods now but I _assure _you, they will be! Of course. The Kurosakis are a happy family. **

**I just love them so much ok. Especially Karin, I had so much phone molding and shaping her personality and just poking her into this punk rock akjhdfnhjss she's just perfect ok. I don't know why, but I was kind of invisioning Miley Cyrus while I was describing her...? I don't know, I'm strange. She's way cooler than Miley Cyrus though _way _cooler. **

**Sorry Miley.**

**Not really.**

**I love Yuzu too! So adorbz. ANYWAY. They deserved their own chapter because...c'mon. They're the Kurosakis. And as Ichigo promised himself, he will be back to visit them soon! Hope you enjoyed!**

**Review review review! xoxox**


	6. Chapter 5

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.

Half of Rangiku's motionless body hangs limply over the edge of her bed giving her a _she's probably dead _look. Which she probably is. She's stripped her bed of everything, the blankets, the sheets, she's even reduced her sleeping attire to nothing but her bra and panties and still it is absolutely _searing_. A glass of water would do nothing now to aid her feverish body, it would probably take a lake. Preferably, a sea. "_Ruki..._" she moaned loudly, grumbling lowly towards the end of her cry, "_Rukia!_"

Rukia relishes. Sitting in front of the osculating fan with a strawberry Popsicle dripping it's sticky sweet syrup from her lips and unto her skin. It didn't matter, it felt good. She pulled at the neck of her bright red camisole, tilting the fan downward to bring the current of air to aid her breasts and stomach, twitching in satisfaction. She feels selfish overall but.

Rangiku can come and join any time she wants.

"_Rukiaaa—_"

Maybe not.

Rukia collected herself from the ground, trailing along the narrow hallways of the apartment until she had reached Rangiku's bedroom and swung the door open wide. Staring at her. Blinking. "I need _waterrrr_. Like...all of it..."

"Whoa," Rukia whistled, "you look sick as hell."

"I feel like I'm. About. To die."

Over dramatic maybe? She thought so. Rukia entered the room furthermore to test a lingering theory invading her head at the time, pressing her wrist down against the back of Rangiku's neck and causing the woman to emit a soft squeal.

She's hot. She's _really _hot. "You have a fever, Ran."

"How come _you _don't have fever? We live in the same place! We do the same things! It's not...it's not fai...it's not fairrrrr..." Rangiku frailed, finding that it was becoming harder to throw herself into one of her usual temper tantrums as she'd always done at a time like this. Which was _great _news for Rukia, but still, this also meant so was stuck taking care of the girl. She made her way over to her window, dragging both parts of Rangiku's semi-sheer white curtains towards to middle to dim the sun's harsh rays from further entering the room, "You need to rest."

"_I have to...study for...exam...Tuesday...cosmetology..._" She continued, going about babbling nonsense. Rukia exited the room hurriedly, retrieving the fan from the living room and bringing it back to Rangiku's room to plug it in and set it to rest beside her bed, "You should be a nurse or something Rukia." Rangiku brought up a good point. When it came to nursing people back to a state of health, Rukia was _almost_ always the best person to come to, if you could put up with her ridiculing attitude for one thing.

And her witty remarks.

"Nah," she retorted flatly, "I can't stand to work with people really. Plus, I just wanna get you feeling better as soon as possible so I don't have to put up with your whining all day till Monday." She smiled, Rangiku rolled her eyes, "_Whatever_."

"There," she came to arise on her slender stems, patting her hands against one another once she feels the job is _partially _done, "I'll go get you some hot jasmine tea. I'll be back in a minute..."

"_Hot _tea?" Rangiku's eyes widened as if she's absolutely petrified by what Rukia's said, "But it's a million degrees in here...!"

-xx-

That tiny stabbing is still what's bothering Ichigo to this very time and day from yesterday's encounter with his growing sisters. Karin. Yuzu. Where did the time go? His mind skips all the way back to when they were still in school, leaving the house in their sailor fuku style uniform and knee socks, he can't help it. That's all he remembers from his last time seeing them. And now they're taller, wiser, mature young women with working jobs and cars and a house of their own, and he's missed _all _of that.

"_Fu..._" he rose from his mattress, clamping his hand to his throbbing forehead. Damn it hurts. It feels like he was hit by a fucking train and lived to wake the next day.

Wait a minute. This feeling is familiar...

He glances to the right side of his bed in suspense, nearly hissing once he's seen _exactly _what he's thought he would see. Another person. A woman. A _stranger_. Oh god..._dammit_! She's sleeping soundly in his bed, facing him. That's a pretty face she's got there...he peeks under the blankets to see what _else _she's got. Breasts. Of course. He always went for that in a woman when he found himself drunk with nothing better to do than seduce one into coming home with him.

The pain he feels now, is the after math. The _hangover_. Perfect.

"I haven't even..." he hiccuped, rolling his eyes in heavy irksomeness, "done a background check...on that Kuchiki chick..." _Maybe I can just skip it. She seemed trustworthy enough to me. No, what the fuck? Am I crazy? Letting some college kid into my house without doing a check on them first? _He lectured himself on how lazy he was, how useless he seemed to be in the morning. Every morning.

_Get up_.

_Get dressed_.

And about this woman in his bed...she has to go as well.

-xx-

"Someone's at the door!" That voice, the angelic voice of the charming young woman who's known as none other than Orihime Inoue. Now known as Orihime Inoue-Ishida. She's in the kitchen, tapping her nails impatiently against the marble counter top as her round gray irises are boring holes into the slim stick she's holding between her fingers for quite some time now. Centuries, it feels like. Her hips are wiggling. She's waiting...waiting..._finally_!

"What's it say?" Uryuu enters the kitchen in his sleepwear, a white t-shirt and blue boxer shorts. Orihime whimpers, she turns around to face him with the stick pressed against her mouth, and all he can think is...

_Gross. Don't put that on your mouth. You peed on that thing. _

"Well?"

"It's..." she chimed quietly. Uryuu frowned, and she smiled to the point where he was sure her jaw would break. He huffed a sigh of relief, throwing himself back against the kitchen island, "_Really_?" She nodded happily, turning the object around in her grasp to show him the small plus sign visible on the gray screen. He's about to die. He's about to absolutely, undoubtedly die right here on the kitchen floor—

No wait. He can't die. Someone is at the door. "I'll get it," Orihime said, tossing the stick into the trashcan before she's pulled back by his strong hand. _Hell _no. "_I'll _get it," he reiterated her sentence _for _her, "you? You go put on some pants."

"Jealous whoever's at the door will see my _goddess-like _legs?" She batted her lashes, running her fingers up the lines of her exquisite legs. Yes. Yes he is. He kissed her gently against the center of her forehead and walks around the kitchen to approach the front door, "Coming." He announces himself, unlocking the top, and bottom lock, before turning to knob and revealing the person standing in their door space—

It's Ichigo.

He looks like shit.

Uryuu turned back to make sure Orihime had been in the bedroom putting on pants like he'd asked, she's not. She's standing _right behind him _in fact, gawking at Ichigo just as hard as he was only a moment ago. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at the staring duo, "Morning." Is what he musters through his cracking voice. My god he even _sounds _like shit. How much did he drink? "Morning, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime replied, not as excitedly as she probably would've in the past but, it was something.

_Damn. She still calls me that?_

She wrapped her arms around Uryuu's torso, stamping a small kiss on his cheek and whispering, "_I'm gonna go put on some..._"

"Yeah." He fanned her away with his hand from behind, opening the door wider to allow Ichigo to see more into his house. And he accidentally catches a glimpse of Orihime running back to their room in nothing but a shirt and her panties. Just a glimpse. He mumbled something inaudible to even _his own _ears under his breath, looking down at his feet and away from Uryuu.

This. This was just _awkward_.

"Can I hang out here for the morning?"

He narrowed his blue hues inquisitively, grasping his left hip with his hand, "There's a woman in your house isn't there?"

Dammit. How did he know? "It's not," Ichigo bellowed, loudly, "my...fault..." he said becoming softer in his tone. Uryuu shook his head with a taunting smirk, damn him, allowing Ichigo into the house finally. He steps in, removing his shoes at the front door. It's been a while since he's seen the place, still as nice as it was the last time he came by. Still has all these damn rooms on one floor and a single add on room on the second floor that's just...sitting there. What the hell is _that _about?

He's never been up there for himself, nor has he asked, but looking up that spiraling stair case disappearing around the corner has finally brought his mind to think...what _could _be up there? Maybe Ishida and Inoue are serial killers, and that's where they stash their human trophies. Nah, probably not. Their house smells too nice. Maybe it's an office for Uryuu, but that wouldn't make sense when he has one here downstairs and Orihime's is inside of their master bedroom. So just what the hell is it?

"Hey, Ishida?" Ichigo pushes himself to ask the lingering question, "What's that room upstairs for?" He wonders if he's said something to make Uryuu crack, the way he's smiling at him is just too freaky. Showing damn near _all _of his pearly white teeth at one time, God this is weird. He shouldn't have asked. "It's the baby's room!" Orihime pushed back into the kitchen, running to wrap herself around Uryuu's arm. He looked at her. Then at Uryuu. Then, at Orihime's stomach, "You have a baby?"

Where did the time _really _go? "No you," Uryuu stopped himself from insulting Ichigo this early in the morning, "Orihime's pregnant. We just found out this morning."

"Congratulations," Ichigo said rather flatly considering it was meant to be an exciting congratulatory thing for the couple. Instead he pulls the strap of his laptop bag off from his shoulder, looking around to Uryuu's clean office area, "is it a boy or a girl?"

"Kurosaki," Uryuu blinked, "we just found out we were having a baby this morning. We don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet."

"Oh," he said, "best wishes to you two then. Do you mind if I use your office?"

"Go for it."

"I'll make us some celebration coffee!" Orihime exclaimed as she turned to the counter to take the coffee pot from it's machine. Celebration coffee. Sounds...festive. Ichigo sets up his laptop on Uryuu's desk on top of his own, turning it on and resting his head in the palm of his hand. Damn his head is throbbing... "Do you like yours black or with sugar in it, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Two sugars is," Ichigo swooned, "fine."

"You don't look so good Kurosaki," Uryuu rested his hand on Ichigo's shoulder comfortingly, "you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Just these damn headaches..."

"Try fish oil." Orihime came over to both men with steaming mugs in her hands. That was quick brewing, what the hell kind of coffee machine do _they _own? Ichigo and Uryuu narrowed their eyes, looking to each other in confusion then back at her, "_Fish _oil?" Ichigo catechized for the both of them. She nodded. "Yeah but...I mean...what do I..._do _with it?" She shrugged, "I have no idea. My uncle told me that it cured his headaches once, and when I had a _bad _one back in high school, and I forgot to ask him how to take it I just," she handed Uryuu his clean white mug and set Ichigo's down on the desk beside his computer, "rubbed it all over my body."

He choked. He spat his coffee back into his mug. Is it wrong to envision his bestfriend's hot wife naked with oiled up skin while he's in their house and right in front of the both of them? _Probably_. "Thank you, Inoue..." Ichigo said, clearing his throat loudly, "but I think I'll just stick to caffeine." The last thing he wants to do is to smell like fish for a few days. Then people will _really _think something is wrong with him. Orihime smiled, returning to the kitchen with spunk, leaving the men to their normal conversation. That is, if you define their conversation as normal.

"Don't," Uryuu stopped Ichigo while he was ahead. He knew he was about to make a comment on Orihime's fish oil to body treatment, and he shrugged his shoulders, "How did she make this coffee so fast?"

"It's instant."

"So the coffee machine?"

Uryuu swallowed his mouthful of the bitter beverage, "Just for show."

Ah.

Ichigo turned to typing on his computer. He went to the greatest website of all time to perform the deepest of background checks on anyone he wanted to. And then, he groaned lowly at how such a site existed on the internet. Then again, what _didn't _exist on the internet nowadays? After entering a bit of information he's received from Rukia he waits for the results to be racked up on an onscreen document before him while Uryuu hovers curiously over his right shoulder, "So this website basically sells people's entire lives online, legitimately? And this is _completely _legal?"

"Pretty much."

Scary stuff.

The process is done. He scrolls down to study the certificate thoroughly, humming softly to himself. Several moments of silence and reading later, Uryuu's finished his coffee and returns with a second mug for both him and Ichigo because his is now cold— "Wait a minute, scroll back up for a sec?"

"What is it?"

"This girl's brother is _Byakuya Kuchiki_?"

"Yeah, but adopted it looks like."

"You do realize, this girl is like, modern royalty right? Oh man. Byakuya Kuchiki..." The way Uryuu speaks this man's name, Ichigo swears he's having an orgasm, "The Kuchiki manor probably makes your _penthouse_ look like a bungalow. Too bad his business went bankrupt after he died. Bank took the house, and everything. Poor girl. Now she's stuck to work for you—"

"She's clean," Ichigo sliced Uryuu's sentence clean off. He hated when he went into whimsical tone like he was about to fly off in a trail of fairy dust behind Peter fucking Pan of something, "I'll give her a key tomorrow."

"You're not gonna come in to work are you?"

He paused.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It's not like you have to really, you _are _in charge of the hospital. Every day you're there you really don't do anything but sit locked up in your office and take simple questions from those light weight air head physicians who got their degrees from a freaking dumpster outside of a Mcdonalds someplace in the ghetto...hell _I _can do that."

He sounded pretty pissed speaking, maybe this scenario had happened on more than one occasion to himself? "Plus, you look pathetic always behind your desk with a migraine. Honestly. I don't see why you come in at all unless you have to or you're called to. I can call you to come in if I need you to come in—"

"You just want my office."

Silence.

"It's such a nice office."

"Ishida."

"But everything I _have _said thus far has been true. I'm not only saying it because I'm inwardly selfish Kurosaki, I'm saying it because I'm worried about that thick head of yours too. You keep stressing and overworking yourself, and those migraines could turn into tumors. Get it?" Uryuu stabbed the tip of his index finger into the center of Ichigo's forehead, keeping it there as he peered intensely into his eyes, "Stay. _Home_."

"I get it," Ichigo groused, slapping away Uryuu's ice cold hand. Why were these man's hands always so freezing? And he's holding hot coffee. Weird. "What are you going to do from now on?"

"Stay home."

"Stay home unless—"

"Unless you call me, or something major goes down at the hospital, I'll stay home."

"Good boy."

Bastard.

"Hey, Uryuu?" Orihime called out from the kitchen, "Your father's on the phone. He said he wants to speak to you. He says it's imp..._imperative _that he does it now instead of later." Of course. Everything was imperative with that man. Ichigo took this as his cue to leave, closing his laptop and sliding it back into his bag to carry it out the door with him, "I'll see you both some other time."

"Alright," Uryuu said, "you take care of yourself, Kurosaki."

"Yeah."

"Bye Kurosaki-kun." Orihime waved, she hadn't changed much at all he sees. That's fine. He likes her this way, the old way, she's one of the few people in his life he doesn't have to worry about ever changing so much that he feels bad for not being there to witness it. Just good old fashioned, classic Orihime— "Ah! _Dammit_!"

Okay, maybe not.

Uryuu jumped, dashing to her side in the kitchen and placing his hands on her arms, "What's wrong?"

"I cut myself on a cracked glass in the sink," she whined, holding her bleeding finger to her mouth. She bit down on it, sucking up her own blood, Ichigo thought things like that were just...gross. Uryuu pulled her finger away to kiss it gently and kiss her forehead and she's smiling, "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," she giggled. "I think you did it on purpose," Uryuu said, nuzzling his face into her hair.

Oh god.

Ichigo _had _to leave. Before he threw up all over their nice carpet. He let himself out the door, closing it behind him and sighing up into the sky. Damn. It felt so much better in the house, it's so hot outside, even in his American flag designed tank top Karin had given him when she'd brought it back from her trip to America to host some party for some celebrity he was completely unaware of. It's tight, but that's to say for all of his casual clothes, bought to his taste to hug his body just right. He looks like a teenager walking down the sidewalk with his khaki cargo shorts and red slip-on TOMS brand shoes, again with going casual today.

He walks past a group of girls all sitting at that very same cafe he and Rukia spoke at, and they all pause to just, stare at him. He stares back. They turn and giggle. Women are weird. He pushed the door open to the cafe building, walking in and intaking the thick scent of warm pastries and other delicacies as he makes his way to the counter, luckily, the woman in line has received her items and is walking away, giving him the vacant register.

"Welcome— ssss," The young woman at the cash register nearly loses it when she sees Ichigo. "_Sir_," she finally grinds out. That's better. "May I take...your...order?"

"Vanilla iced coffee, medium please."

"For here or to go?"

"To go."

It's always about coffee with this man. It's a surprise to how he's so incredibly tall, and _always _tired, maybe his body rejects the stuff. She nods as she inserts his order into the register and he hands her the exact amount she needs to complete it. "Alright," she says as she rips the receipt from the tiny machine printing it beside the register, "your order will be called in just a second!"

"Thanks."

"May I have your name please?"

That's weird. He always gets his coffee here, and that no one's ever asked him this before. Maybe it's a new thing the cafe just started doing, but by the way she's staring at him, he highly doubts it. "Ichigo."

"If you do the survey at the bottom of your receipt here," she points to the lower half of the piece of paper lying on the counter, "you can get a free coffee on your next visit. All you need to do then is put your name, your _number_..."

He raised a brow. This girl was sly, too sly for her own good even. But she was cute, so why not? He laughed grinningly, audaciously sliding the pen from the left breast pocket of her shirt and pulling the cap off with his teeth as he leans over the counter to write _only _his phone number on the back of the reciept and hand it back to her, "There."

"Thank you," she smirked, sliding the paper out from in between his fingers whilst she bites her bottom lip and says his first name in a sensually low tone, "_Ichigo_."

What's going on this morning?

Was it his shirt?

He smiled one last time at her before turning around to head back to a vacant seat while he waits for his order to be called. He finds one, a tall lime green stool behind a short bar of only two stools protected by a glass so whomever sat at the bar was blinded from the front counter, fine by him. He sat down on one, sighing. Closing his eyes and lowering his head to the cool bar top. "_Mr. Kurosaki_?"

Who was this now? Was it the girl from the register? No, he didn't tell her his last name. Plus, this girl's voice sounded much much...softer? He can't describe it really. He opens his eyes to look down at the angle in which his head is turned, coming to face with the woman's legs. They're a nice set of stems, pale and milky, they look smooth. Hairless. From her dainty feet with orange painted toes all the way up _high _to her thickening thighs where her shorts finally began, slightly fringed as if they were cut or damaged. And her wide hips.

Okay. Maybe he _should_ look at her face.

He shot his glare up to the eyes of Rukia Kuchiki, nearly jumping out of his seat. He didn't expect her of all people, and she's dressed so...

Cute? Is that the word he really wants to use?

Her shirt is the second thing that's caught his eye, because it's short. Understandable, with this weather, he'd understand if she left the house with nothing but a bra on. But it's not a bra, it's a bright yellow long sleeve top with a low U shape dip in the back, cropped short so it's several inches high above her navel. And it's tight. Her hair is up too, in a messy ponytail that sort of reminds him of how Karin used to wear her's, except Rukia's is longer, "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"My friend is sick," Rukia said in an annoyed voice, "I'm here to pick her up some tea for her fever. And you?"

"I always come here for my coffee."

"_Coffee_?" She retched at the word. Oh. _Oh_. She just got less attractive to him in his book. "Customer number 8 and number 9? Your orders are ready," a man's voice over the intercom announced that Ichigo and another customer's orders were waiting to be picked up at the counter. "That's me," he said, holding up his ticket. "Me too," Rukia replied, holding up her's and showing him the number _8 _printed in bold. His heart nearly stops. What is _really _going on this morning?

He walks her to the counter to grab their orders, heading for the door, he can't help but feel the heavy stare of an eye from behind the register pounding down on his head...

-xx-

"So where are you headed to now?" She asked him as they walk side by side down the sidewalk. He tilts his head in reconsideration of going home, he doesn't have his car after all. After missing out on two days of his usual morning jogs he's been substituting them with walking everywhere he needs to go, "I'm not really...sure."

"You're not going to go home?"

"Nah," he hissed. That woman is probably still there. "It's. Boring. I'll probably just wind up going someplace to escape this _heat_..."

"Yeah. This has got to be one of the hottest Summer's I've ever encountered here," she said. She brought her hand to the top of her eyes, shielding them from the sun's rays with her palm lying flat out horizontally above her eyes as if her hand were a visor, "I thought about going to the beach once. The weather's good enough for it."

"Yeah," Ichigo concurred. He's having an inner battle with himself to keep sane, to _not _have perverted thoughts while standing next to this college student. But his eyes are just way too adulterate for his mind to control as they slip to the corner of their sockets to oggle at her breasts. He wondered what they felt like— "Actually," he choked out, "I do have to be somewhere. I'll contact you later with the address of my apartment, is that okay?"

"Oh. Yeah," Rukia said, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as she nods her head. "Good. See you Monday."

"Alright," she smiled warmly at him. Oh fuck why is she so god damn cute. This isn't fair.

He's trying to be good for once. Sort of, well.

This isn't fair.

He watches as she crosses the street in between the lines of the crosswalk, making it to the other side safely and continuing with a soft swing of her hips as she walks. Most girls walked like that, but when she did it, it's like he's hypnotized by the swaying movements of her ass in those shorts. Damn those shorts. And those hips that Ichigo had thought about only a few nights ago when she had sent him their measurements. Screw the measurements. He wanted to measure the width of her hips with his—

Oh _god_.

He jerked his phone from his left pocket, scrolling through his contact list viciously and stabbing at the name of one of the several people on it. Waiting. Waiting. "_Hello?_"

"Tell me you can squeeze me in for an appointment today."

"I'm not busy," Yoruichi said, "what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you when I get there."

"How fast can you get here?"

Ichigo turned to his right, looking out into the distance, he finds himself face with a familiar setting and pinpoints a familiar building among others, "I'm looking at the office right now."

"Alright," she said, he could here the grin in her voice from across the transmitter. God she was evil. "See you soon."

-xx-

"I fucked up, Shihouin. I fucked up _bad_." Ichigo paced the length of the woman's office, biting the tips of his fingernails to their weakest point, "You don't understand."

"I..." Yoruichi blinked in bafflement, "I _don't_ understand. The moment you came in here you started pacing the floor and saying '_I fucked up man! I fucked up big time!_'" Professional flew out the window a long time ago with the relationship between these two. Now, Yoruichi was simply listening to his problems and giving him a casual response, "I can't even begin to describe...okay. Listen. Before you get all up my ass about how _I _did something wrong, let me tell you what happened!"

He flopped down in that leather couch infamous for making disgusting sounds. Yoruichi cracked a grin. He rolled his eyes. "This kid who's an intern at my hospital right, he said his friend needed a job, and remember what you said about me hiring a new maid? So, I asked him, '_Is she an older woman_' and this kid goes, '_Oh yeah she's *way* older than me_'—"

"How old is this _kid_?" She questions. "17?" Ichigo responded, questioning himself even. "Alright. Continue."

"So anyway," he continues, and with a new found excitement, "I ask him how much older and he goes, '_she'd kill me if I tried to guess_', so I'm thinking, this woman must be in her forties or something? She's _older _Yoruichi, that's what I thought, alright? Then, when I tell him what I wanna hire her to do, he goes on a rail about how she's the love of his life or some shit— the kid thinks I'm a _pervert _who puts my maids in those skimpy little maid costumes like in the animes or something!"

Seems reasonable. Yoruichi sniggered. "Yes? I don't see where the problem is."

"Wait," Ichigo shot his finger out at her, leaning back against the cushioning of the couch, "So. He calms down right? I get her number, contact her that day, set up an interview, bam it's done. Simple. Next day, everything's running smoothly, she's on time, everything _perfect_— but she's _not _old. The girl's a kid, a _kid_! In college!"

"Then she isn't a kid."

"She's a kid to me! She's still in her teens for fuck's sakes, and I _couldn't _say no because she's got this big sob story behind the fact to why she doesn't have a job or _something_, and her dead brother— something _Kuchiki_—"

"_Byakuya_ Kuchiki?" Her eyes widen in interest, "You hired Byakuya Kuchiki's adoptive younger sister to be your _maid_? Wow."

"You're not helping."

"I'm just shocked. I would've thought that after his death his wealth would've been passed down to her."

"His whole company went bankrupt right around the time he died. His house his car, the bank took everything. The girl is living in her friend's apartment for Christ's sake..."

"So what's the big deal?" Yoruichi leans back into her armchair, staring intuitively at Ichigo from across the small office, "You hired a young girl who _needs _a job to work for you in your apartment. Now, because you have an understanding of that, you can control yourself, right?" _I fucking hope so_. Ichigo groaned, dropping his head into the palm of his hands between his knees. He ground out low wails of despair. God he looks so pathetic, Yoruichi rolled her eyes, "She's just. She's just so damn cute...I saw her today, on the way here. Oh my god. The shorts she was wearing, and the way her shirt was? Oh my god, it was short. It was short, _and _it was backless. And she wore her hair up and everything, I thought I was gonna lose it, Shihouin. I'm disgusting. Fuck, I'm disgusting..."

"Hey," Yoruichi said. Ichigo looked up from his palms, interested by the new toll her voice has taken, "That's a nice shirt."

_Are you fucking kidding me? _She grinned at him. This woman loved toying with his state of mind. Why did he even come here if he knew this? Why did he...

Why does he suddenly feel better? "Karin got it for me when she went to American a few months ago."

"Did she say how it was? Kisuke was talking about taking me there to see New York for New Years."

"She said it was alright," he shrugged, "technology's weak. But overall it was alright."

"How _is_ Karin? And Yuzu?"

He paused. "They're both actually doing _really_ well for themselves. I visited them yesterday."

"Oh yeah? How'd that go?"

This was weird. This woman had a power, a weird way of twisting things around and making Ichigo angry one minute, and then fine the next. It's like she's got a voodoo doll of him that works solely on the manipulation of his emotions. "It was...fine," he lied,"I wanna visit them again soon. But I don't just want to go and sit in their house y'know? I wanna take them somewhere."

"Take them to the beach," Yoruichi suggested. The beach. _That _sounded familiar. He raised his brows at the idea, perking up more on the couch so that he sits with his back fully erected, "It's nice this time of year. Especially since it's so hot outside, the water? Ugh, it feels amazing, and it's so pretty. A nice picnic would be the perfect thing for you guys since it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah..." he sighed. He looked at his watch, wincing slightly in the corner of his left eye and sighing. He's wasted two hours just sitting here, babbling on about some college kid. Pathetic. He rose from the couch, brushing off his cargoes and picking his coffee up from the table, "I should get going then. I gotta get back and fill out some charts for the hospital. Uyruu brought up some pretty interesting points to me today...I think I may just take his word for it."

"Alright," Yoruichi waved gently, "see you soon."

"Not too soon I hope," he muttered lowly as he walks to the door, flinging it open and glancing at Yoruichi one last time who's looking back. He'll never understand what's going through that woman's head, or how the hell she's so sly. She's like a damn cat. He _hates_ cats. She waves once more with the digits of her right hand and he sneers, walking out and closing the door softly behind him.

Damn. Should've slammed it so she didn't think he knew they were friends.

***NOTE: Here's a new chapter for you guys! I'm pushin' 'em! Seriously. xD**

**Kurosaki beach picnic? I wanna go dammit. I hate when fictional characters have all the fun, it's so unfair! Poor Rangiku. I can probably imagine how much she'd hate being sick considering how lively she usually is, not she'd all bedridden and sickly and Rukia is taking care of her. And Ichigo's _complications _are getting worse now that he's seen her dressed "appropriately" for the summer heat.**

**What will his reaction be when he sees her in the maid uniform he's had re-tailored for her? It's not supposed to be skimpy, but on Rukia, kekeke. We'll see! Stay tuned!**

**Also I'd like to say THANK YOU to my readers who have stuck with me thus far! You guys are the best. I love reading your reviews and such, so remember!**

**Review review review!**


	7. Chapter 6

_Oh my...god._

_This place is amazing._

Rukia circles the length of the penthouse to and fro. She examines every corner, every crevice, every space, even tiny little details Ichigo hasn't even noticed about the apartment his damn self in all the years he's been here. It's no where near as big as the Kuchiki manor was, but hell is it good looking. And so is _she _in that uniform.

For a while she doesn't notice his stare, he's sitting behind his desk with his fingers interlaces and up to his nose. Just. Watching her walk around his apartment like she's a new puppy he's brought home, and she's getting used to her surroundings. He swears his tailor is an idiot. The adjustments on that uniform just...they just...they can't be right.

Or maybe Rangiku is the one who took her measurements wrong.

For one thing, it's tight around her chest, and though her chest itself isn't large it is _perky_. The tightness is only making her breasts work harder to stay inside and they're peeking out, kind of like those Victoria's Secret Model's breasts do in the advertisements of their _bombshell push-up _bras or whatever the hell they were. He didn't understand those at all. Another thing is how tightly it's fitting around her curves, the dress itself is just so form fitting on her it's driving him completely berserk in his own head. All is tight except the bottom half of the dress, which is loose and flowing down to her thighs, stopping about maybe four or five inches above her knees.

Something about her legs in those black silk thigh-highs were getting him really aroused for some reason as well.

She walked to his piano, skimming her fingers along the glossy ebony finish. There's no housekeeping going on at all, it's more like house _touring_. She brings herself to his tremendous penthouse windows giving him an amazing view of Karakura from the 40th floor. She's absolutely dazed by this. She could die here. Dragging her fingers along the matte finish of his apartment black walls, she finally stops to catch his eye. Staring at him staring at her.

Is it something wrong with her hair?

She brings her hand to the ponytail it's tied in high on her head, just to be safe, then she adjusts her white bonnet and clears her throat to soothe the atmosphere.

Good lord.

This is even _more _awkward than being around Inoue and Ishida.

"Hey, Mr. Kurosaki?" Rukia asked, stretching her hand out to the dark gold trophy sitting upon one of his higher shelves, "What did you win this do—"

"Don't!" Ichigo cried. Rukia flinched, snatching her hand back down from the shelf and to her side quickly.

Awkward.

He fell down into his chair with a heavy exhale. She's only trying to make conversation with him, so why can't he...? This is annoying. "I played soccer in high school." Rukia perked up to his ability to finally finish a full statement. It was shocking considering that the past hour she's been here, he hasn't done a thing but look at her or look at his computer. He's been giving her simple tasks or simple directions like—

Do this, or do that. That needs dusting. That needs to be straightened. That needs to be straightened again.

Does that look crooked to you? Could you...straighten it?

"You must've been good."

"I was a goalie."

He couldn't have just said _yes _or _sure_? Rukia pinched her lips together, turning her back to Ichigo to stare out the window. She's rather be at home listening to Rangiku go on and on about how miserable she is than be here, oh yeah, did she mention Rangiku is still sick? Her fever has lightened up, but it's still to the point where it hurts her to do simple things. Maybe she should've stayed home and taken care of her. Beats being here with a guy who can't even look her in the eye.

What's with that anyway?

She glanced at him over her shoulder, to see if he had been looking at her. He'd returned his gaze to his computer screen for the moment— okay. So he wasn't a complete leech. Rukia sighed, walking across his vision to his kitchen to retrieve a small white towel from a drawer by his sink, thrown off her course of action when her body is struck with the strong vibration of her cellphone which she kept slipped into her right bra cup. She unveiled it, grasping it and it's pink bunny case in all of it's glory, looking at her screen to find that she's received a new text message.

She doesn't even have to open her inbox to see who it is.

She taps the screen of her iPhone 5 gently, opening the small envelope icon: _1 __New Message from_

_Rangiku Matsumoto:_

As expected. She read across the tiny black font with intrigued purple irises:

_Help meeeeeeeeeeeee. You have to come baaaaaaaaack. _

_I'm dyiiIIiIInfg._

Typical Rangiku. What was that last part about? She probably sneezed while typing or something. Rukia rolls her eyes before tapping against the "reply" button and begins to type in response:

_Rangiku. I'm at work. I'll be home in a few hours, until then, just go to sleep. Or play that video game thing. But I can't text while I'm working, so I'll talk to you soon._

_Bye._

"Ms. Kuchiki?" Ichigo crowed loudly from the other room, causing her to tense immediately in shock. She jams her phone back into the cup of her bra, retreating from the kitchen and back to the glossy black double doors leading her into his office, "Yes Master Kurosaki?"

Master Kurosaki. He felt like that uniform carried the curse of him being called that along with it. On Chikane, if might as well have been a curse. But on Rukia.

It's as if she's just begging him to lose his cool any second now.

"Do you mind...bringing me a cup of water?"

"No problem."

She probably should've said something more like _yes Master Kurosaki_. Oh well. She'll get it right next time. Ichigo is suffering from the mother of all headaches as he sits behind his mahogany wood desk, staring impeccably hard at his laptop screen for _something_. His eyes grow heavy and he sighs, shifting in his seat to drag out one of the drawers of his desk containing his prescription pills for, you guessed it. Those persnickety little migraines that just _loved _to creep up on him. _Annoying_. He twisted the cap off and tapped two in his hand, replacing it and throwing the capsules to the back of his throat to swallow.

That would set him back for the next hour or so. Until another one rolled right back in to take it's place. "Sorry it's in a mug, I couldn't find..." Rukia returned, pausing in confoundment at the doors to his office. Staring at how deathly ill he looks, leaning back in his big boy leather chair like he's about to send himself to heaven at any second now. He doesn't even _notice _she's looking at him, he's just aware that she's present, "It's fine. Any cup will do as long as it's water."

"Are you feeling alright, Master Kurosaki?"

Honestly, where is that coming from? He fidgeted shortly after, wrapping his hand around the cool glass of the mug and taking a long swallow from it's edge before replying, "I'm fine. I've just got a bit of a headache that's all...I'm squeezed dry. I just. I can't go on with this paperwork—"

"You're just tired. Here. Let me," Rukia said. She rounded his desk, coming up and positioning herself behind his chair, what is she _doing_?

Oh god. He feels another Ishida episode coming on. The flashback begins of his horrible encounter with those cold manly hands kneading into his flesh and constantly asking, "_Does it feel good? It feels good huh. You don't have to tell me, I know my massages are the greatest._" Yikes. "Actually," Ichigo begins to insist that she not take any course of action that involves touching him, "it's really not necessary." She tilted her head lightly, resting her hands on his broad tensing shoulders, "It's fine, I insist. My roommate gets headaches like these too, up until now just recently when she's gotten a fever, I've been giving her massages to keep the pain away."

Girls massaging girls. His mind has once again hopped on the train to the wrong place at the wrong time, and he's done with objecting to her. Her hands are actually really soft against his skin, and warm too. Not like Uryuu's ghastly _witch fingers_. She kneads into him gently, running her hands along the curvature of his shoulders and bringing them along up to rub both sides of his neck. He feels like he's going to absolutely melt in his chair and all over her hands from her touch, what is this? Some sort of witch craft? He hasn't felt this good in...well. Since last night.

"Better?" Rukia hums angelically into his ear as she soothes him with the gratifying movements of her hands, she can feel the soft vibrations in Ichigo's throat. It's almost as if he's _purring_, it just feels so damn good. It's so good in fact, it's wiping his brain of all stressful thoughts and notions, and all together, putting him to sleep in front of his desk. His head drops, back against her breasts, her feels her soft yet firm flesh stand up to him—

wait a minute.

What's he _doing_?

He opens his eyes and Rukia stops massaging his neck for a moment to look down at his head simply _resting _on her chest. Smooth. His cheekbones are struck with a heavy dosage of red coloring almost immediately, reheating his face once again to it's extreme temperature. And all she does is smile at him. Such a sweet girl. "_Uh..._" Ichigo flew up from his chair, almost crashing head first into his desk, "C—could you go over there and...pass me that book off...the shelf? Please?"

"Sure." Rukia obediently departs from around his chair, approaching the library style book shelves lined up against his office wall. Just then, Ichigo swivels around in his chair, staring down into his lap— it's worse than he's thought.

Maybe sitting around the house in his t-shirt and boxers while his young and beautiful maid is prancing about _isn't _such a good idea. "Which book did you want? I don't think you told me..."

"The one on—" Ichigo stuttered, "Reverse psychology!" He cursed himself. _Go down! Go down dammit! _Pushing on his groin, and the pained muscle that throbbed and ached terribly. Begging for release from it's imprisonment behind his boxers. And just when he thinks he's got the job done—

"Which one, Master?"

Master. He thrusts himself into a fit of rage, mentally. He's left with no other choice now but to come face to face with the only other option he has left... "The third edition, please." The third Edition of Dr. Madake's Reverse Psychology tribute. It's the heaviest, thickest of all three of the books, and he knows exactly what he has to do with the damn thing. Rukia struggles to just take it off the shelf, carrying it in both her arms to his desk, and he turns back around to face her. Begrudgingly. Lord behold she's staring at him like he's some sort of idiot.

He takes the monster of a book and lifts it up to level with his shoulders, dropping it down on his groin.

Silence. Rukia blinks. He groans, quietly, but audibly, "Thank you," he griped, "Ms. Kuchiki..." What a weird guy.

-xx-

_Phew! I'm done. It didn't take too long..._

She's gone through every room in this over sized house, and wondered to herself several times along the way: How much space does a single person _need_? Sweeping, wiping, dusting, she's done it all. If there's anything she's missed, well.

She hasn't missed anything at all. She was positive of that. No, wait. She looks down below her very feet at the carpet disappearing under Ichigo's bed. His room was the epitome of cleanliness, she'll give him that. But that's always _something _underneath everyone's bed. But what if he had a secret stash underneath there? She remembers a time when Rangiku had told her that every man had one, a collection or stash of some sort made up of pornography or other explicit articles. She said most men kept them in obvious places like under the bed or under the mattress, even in the drawer, and if his was underneath his bed and Rukia just so happened to stumble upon it...could she lose her job?

But if she _doesn't _check under the bed for anything like laundry, or maybe a sheet of paper that has slipped beneath it, could she lose her job then as well? She's made her decision. _If there's something that's not any of my business, I'll ignore it. If there is something under there, I'll grab it and go! _She lowered herself to her hands and knees, sliding along the carpet gently until her head slipped underneath the bottom of Ichigo's bed frame. It's too dark to see, but her eyes are adjusting slowly but surely—

Ichigo steps soundly into the premises of his room, massaging the back of his head. _Fucking migraine_, he cursed mentally, opening his eyes so he's sure to make his way to his bed properly. Hold on.

He doesn't remember _that _being there.

Rukia's wiggling hips are in air, and— holy shit. Her dress is lifted to the point where, he can see her panties. This is the mother of all awkward situations. She's in his bedroom, under his bed, ass in the air with her panties out. He could do the right thing and just walk away, _or _he could do what his mind and his genitals are telling him to do, and rip her out from underneath the bed, throw her down on his mattress, and _screw_ the living daylights out of her six ways to Sunday. He considers option B—more than once—and before he even _thinks _about putting it into action, he can already feel Yoruichi's cold stare penetrating straight into his heart.

Nope. No can do. He wouldn't go through _that _again. He cupped his hand around his flustered face, turning his back to the inside of his bedroom and sighing, "Ms. Kuchiki..." Rukia yelped. She jerked out from underneath his bed and rolled on her back on the ground, immediately yanking her skirt down. She looks to him to find his back is turned, and her heart slows it roll, "I'm sorry! I was just—"

"I don't...particularly want to know what you were doing under there...could you please just. _Get out_?" As much as he didn't mean to sound rude, that last part probably did it for him. Rukia rose from the ground, straightening her dress and the bonnet on her head, today has just not been the best of days for either one of the two, "Your hours are almost over actually, they're down to only minutes. If you want to leave..." Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see if she has yet to have stood to her feet.

Damn. She has.

"You're welcome to."

Rukia flinched a bit. She pulled at the end of her dress, nodding her head in understanding, "Okay."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right," she muttered, storming out of his room, past him and into his living room. His stupid over sized living room. How much space does one person _need _god dammit!?

-xx-

"You look pissed off," Rangiku sniffled. She's acting like she's got the flu or something, it's just a headache. Drama queen. She sits up against the wall of her room in her bed with a ice pack on her head and her blankets wrapped tightly around her, wasn't she just complaining about how hot it was? Rukia's starting to think she's doing it to get out of taking a test at the beauty school, "I am pissed off."

"Job not what you expected it to be?"

"The guy's a total basket case," Rukia shrilled, she threw her hands up for extra emphasis, "he _seemed _like a nice guy from the interview and the second time I met him! But, when I'm in his house, he treats me like I'm not even there half the time, and the other half he acts like he's so damn afraid of me. Like I'm a rabid beast about to strike at any given moment."

"Maybe he's gay," Rangiku coughed into her fist, "have you considered that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't," Rukia mumbled, "know. He's just..."

"Attractive?"

"_Ugh_," she fell back into the bean bag across Rangiku's room, "gross. The man's probably in his thirties...why are you so worried about how he looks anyway?"

"He sounded attractive over the phone," Rangiku cleared her throat of building mucus, hacking it into a cup on her nightstand. Rukia twitched. This girl was a lot less pretty when she was sick, "I think there's something in my sinuses..."

"How do you know when someone sounds attractive over the phone?"

"You just know when you're me. You see, _I_, have a gift that a lot of _other women _would give for."

The gift of making absolutely no sense at all times of the day no matter what the topic of discussion is? "_I _know men."

"Oh really?"

"You clean his house, right? You've been in his things. Does he have a _stash_?"

Rukia blinks, shifting back to the moment in time where she had been shoulders deep underneath his bed. It was dark but, she didn't see anything. She hadn't found anything in his drawers either, _or _his closet,

unless he had some kind of in-wall safe or something. But just to hide some pornography?

That's a little much.

"No...not one that I've managed to find."

"See," Rangiku pried deeper into her analysis with false facts, "just trust me Rukia. I just know these things."

"Wouldn't he have hired a _man _if he was gay?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a gay man willing to work under the roof of another man's house as a maid...butler...whatever. From just word of mouth? Plus, he's probably a sexist. Maybe he went for women, on the count of the stereotype _is _that we do the cooking, the cleaning...all that good stuff."

"_Really_," Rukia raised an elegant brow. Rangiku nodded, "It's true. I do know men. I know how they think. And judging by the sound of your boss I'd say he's pretty attractive. Probably not in his thirties though, maybe mid to early twenties and considering the job he's given you he's _definitely _single. Now, taking into consideration that from what you told me he wanted to hire an older woman, that meaning, he doesn't want to seem like a pervert. Which is what he told you from his very own mouth. Most men wouldn't care about little things like the age of the women working for them. In conclusion, you're dealing with a bitter party of one who's probably never been had a single serious relationship in his life and now he's taking it out on himself by living in an oversized, over furnished penthouse with no one to share it with but him and his own grief, _and _his new young maid. That he didn't want to hire, because she's a young attractive woman," Rangiku wraps up her analysis with a diagnosis that Rukia just can't seem to wrap her head around even after all of that, "he's gay."

Wow. For a minute there, Rukia thought she was listening to someone other than Rangiku talking, "You really think he's gay?"

"Honey," there's the Rangiku she knows, returning to her usual spunky tone, "if a brotha' got a _fine ass lady _workin' in his crib and he ain't tryna _holla_? _And _the man _single _to top it all off—" She snaps her finger high in the air, "_He _gay. _Puriod._" Oh my god. What the hell was that? Rukia found herself laughing nonstop at Rangiku's ghetto turn for the worst, what a horrible impression of people she's seen off tv from those real housewives reality shows, or whatever the fuck they're airing on television nowadays. It was just _so bad_.

"Anyway," she sighed, inhaling through her mouth and out her nose, "I say that's better on your part. Sexual harassment is definitely a non-factor now, not that it would've mattered if it was. You're a big girl, you can take care of yourself. Mama raised you _right_!"

"Is _mama _supposed to be _you_?"

"Watch it," she sniffled, "but hey. At least it means you can dress cute! I've got a little surprise for youuu..."

Oh god. The last time Rangiku had gotten Rukia a _little surprise _it had wound up being a full blown rampage of balloons and people screaming "_happy birthday_" outside of her dorm when she lived in one with her roommate, which she moved out of on her 18th birthday. She doesn't remember much after that. Just that she woke up on a hospital bed and Rangiku's hanging over her sobbing "_I'm sorry_" a hundred times. She's absolutely terrified to see what she's gotten her now. "When you told me you had gotten a job as a maid, I couldn't help myself! I just couldn't stop thinking about those cute little maid costumes that I always see the girls wearing in my favorite anime, and I just thought you would look so darling in it!"

"I can't change my uniform, Ran."

"Duh," she rolled her eyes, "I _know _that! I just got you some accessories that's all! You can put them on to spice up that boring old dress, here. Put them on right now and show me!" She couldn't say no. Rukia could never say no to Rangiku, not without it dragging on and on into a never ending explanation as to why she's said no and she means, _no_. Might as well get it over with, she supposed.

After several minutes of waiting, Rangiku's fed up and impatient, drumming on her mattress and bouncing in excitement when she hears the bathroom door open and then her bedroom door after. She's thrown back into her wall in astonishment, almost bursting out into tears. Oh my god. Is that Rukia? "You...look..." She twirls around once in her dress and it slightly lifts from the air picking up underneath it, exposing her new freshly unpacked white garters and garter belts hooking onto her new white thigh-highs with black bows on the front of them. She tugs lightly at the choker around her neck, it's a small white ribbon tied in a delicate looking bow in front of her. On her wrists, she wears white cuffs, and on her head is her normal bonnet, but with Rangiku's added on pink bow on the side that's slightly hidden in Rukia's hair that she wears down to her shoulders.

She feels ridiculous.

She _looks _ridiculous.

"_SOOOOOO KAWAIIIII!_" Rangiku shrills, she nearly breaks the mattress just jumping off of it to attack Rukia across the room. Oh my god! Has she gone mad!?

Her fever is _definitely _lifted. "Oh my god! Rangiku you're heavy!"

"Ruki Ruki Ruki!"

"Get off!"

"You're so _cuuuute_! You make me wanna hug you, and kiss you, and just eat you up—"

"I can't wear this to work!" Rukia exploded, tearing her bonnet off of her head, "I look ridiculous! I feel ridiculous! I'll be 20 years old next year, and I can't walk around in this—this...Rangiku...?" She looks down in between her chest where Rangiku's face is buried. She's stopped flailing, she's stopped screaming, in fact. She's completely still. She tilts her head back to look at Rukia with watering, woeful eyes. Oh boy. "Hey...Ran...I was just...come on."

"It's just that," Rangiku sniffled for extra emphasis on her dramatics, pressing her cheek in between Rukia's breasts as she continues to sob loudly, "even though I was sick, I was still thinking about you at work. And I felt really really crappy ya'know? But I wanted you to have a little more fun while you were working so I stepped out of the house...and bought you this stuff...and now you're throwing it in my face—"

"I'll wear it." Rukia murmured under her breath, "Just stop crying."

"Really!?"

She recovers fast. Rukia twitched nervously in her right eye. She's just been bamboozled by a blonde. "Oh, you're the best Rukia!"

_Traitor_.

-xx-

What the _hell_ has Ichigo Kurosaki woken up to? One minute he's sleeping, the next, he's barely dragging his ass out of bed and then

Rukia's in his kitchen brewing him coffee like. Like she's his wife or something. And what's with her uniform? He already had to beat the crap out of himself yesterday and half of the night _just _to calm down from seeing her before and now she brings _this _along? Something tells him she knows _exactly_ what she's doing, "Good morning...Ms. Kuchiki...early at work I see."

"I figured I'd come early," Rukia said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, "my roommate was giving me a hard time about _something__. _I just wanted to get away..."

"You don't have classes today?"

"That's tomorrow," a beep indicating that his coffee was ready led Rukia to carefully unearthing the pot from it's station, tilting it at a slight angle to pour a steady stream of the hot dark liquid into a black mug, "early from 6 to 2. But you'll be here right?" She slid the pot back into the machine, glancing over her shoulder at Ichigo. Still staring. Still completely dumbfounded. Seriously, her uniform was taking him for a serious trip. He pushed his lower body up against the cold wooden exterior of the kitchen island. _You're not gonna pop up this time, you little—_

"_Master Kurosaki_?"

Ichigo jumped, thrusting his elbow down on the dark marbling of the counter top of the island and resting his chin on his palm all in a single seemingly tied together motion, "_Yes_?" As much as he swore he hated that, he never objected when it came out of her mouth.

"Do you like me?"

Hold on. What? His heart skipped a beat at the phrasing of her question. What exactly did she mean? Ichigo was a grown ass man, the term like for him was simply to be used as something lightly but to a woman still in her late teens. What exactly does _like _mean to women anyway? Do they have a separate dictionary with their own meaning of the word that's different from men's? That sounds pretty legitimate to him. "Do I _like _you?" He responded, pushing _hard _emphasis on the word like. So hard, he practically choked on his own tongue, "Yeah. You know like, _like_ me. Not in a romantic sort of way like would you want to take me out on a date,"

He wants to do _so _much more than that.

"But. You know. Do you..._fancy my company_?"

"Do I _fancy your company_," Ichigo narrowed his eyes in thought, he would act cool to keep the fact that he actually feels _really _strained around her hidden, "yeah, I'd say so far you're pretty alright." She paused. _I'm just *alright*? _Her head tilting back, she turned her nose up to his comment with an inward chant, _I'm more than alright! This idiot wouldn't know alright from satisfactory if it bit him in the— _"You made that for you?" Ichigo said, referring to the hot mug of fresh coffee she held so cautiously in her hand. She blinked, "I made this for _you_."

"You don't want a cup?"

"I _despise_ coffee."

"Weird, I thought you would've drank a lot of it," he dropped his hand from his chin to bring his arm to a rest on the cool counter top with a coy smirk, "'cause for a girl your age, you're so _short_."

_'Cause for a girl your age, you're so short._

_For a girl your age, you're so short._

_You're so short._

_**You're so short.**  
_

_**Short.**_

She froze. Paralyzed. Her entire world, her existence has come to a complete halt right before her very eyes as her surroundings fade to black and shatter like shards of glass_._ That glass being, that remaining bit of patience she had left with Mr. Kurosaki. Not only did he call her a _girl_, he called her _short_.

That's a big no-no in Rukia's book, or as Rangiku would put it...

"_Oh— Haaaaaaaail to the no!_"

She ground her teeth together overwhelmingly hard, so hard even Ichigo could here it. Oh my god, was she breaking that mug with her bare hands? Maybe he's taken his little joke a _tad _bit too far with this woman... "_I see_."

That's it?

No swing to the face? No hot coffee to the face? No broken shards of glass or anything to hinder Ichigo of his good looking face? Maybe she wasn't as bad as she seemed— Rukia took the entire pot of fresh brewed coffee from it's station in the machine, and walking it over to the sink, she dumped it down the drain. Dropping the pot along with it, and the mug too with an ear shattering crack that sent chills down Ichigo's spine. He's just unleashed the devil.

"_I'm sorry_," she was inadvertently cursing him with her tone, he could just tell by listening to it, "_the coffee was bad. I obviously didn't know what I was doing. Looks like there is no more._"

"How much did you use!?"

"Guess I didn't read the instructions."

For a moment he stared, unable to form sensible words from his scrambling brain as he watched the vivaciousness drain from her bright purple irises, darkening them into a sinister hue. She's angry. No. She's _pissed_ off. "And for further references," she spat venom across his kitchen, charging over to his island and drilling her hand into the marbling of the counter top. He'd have to check later for cracks, he knew she damaged it somehow, "I am _not _short. _You _are just too tall." Is there such a thing about being too tall? His stubborn attitude forebode him to apologize to her, instead he pushes her full force, deeper into her tantrum, "Too tall? How is somebody _too tall_? And what's with that change in attitude anyway? It was a joke."

"You don't just _joke _about someone's height without knowing how they'll react! It's insulting! What if," she shot her gaze up to his full head of sharp orange, "what if I said something insulting about you hair!?"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"_I _think it looks ridiculous." She turned her back on him, crossing her arms over her modest chest, "Who the hell dyes their hair orange anyway? It makes you look like an orange porcupine crawled up onto your head and died. How long did it take to process into _that _absurd color? Hm?" Did—

Did she just—? Ichigo's eyes stretched wide in dismay, drawing his hands to his hair in a matter of seconds to push it down to his scalp. His mouth remains open, unaware of what to say— she's done it to him this time. She's hit him with the lowest of low blows, the old high school ridicule of his bright orange locks still hasn't grown old it seems. Except now when it hits him, it hits him _hard _coming from in between the lips of this cold young and beautiful woman. "T—take it back!" He responded rather childishly, slapping his hands down on the top of his island. Rukia whipped back around to face him, bringing her body forward so that she leaned over it as well, "You apologize first! _Then _I'll take it back!"

"Like _hell _I'm apologizing to some rude midget! My hair isn't dyed dammit! This is it's natural color—"

"Yeah right."

"I'm _serious_!"_  
_

"_And_," Rukia brought her head in closer to his with a scowl intense enough to scare the devil himself, "you called me a _girl_! I'm not a damn child! What are you, some old man!?"

"Could've fooled me. Being as little as you are."

Oh that's it. She draws back an inch or maybe two, throwing herself forward to the point where her body is lifted up to her toes just so she can bring herself to eye level with Ichigo, twitching, "_Apologize_." Ichigo narrowed his atramentous ambers devilishly at her, forming his lips into a thin line to mutter the very words that would set her back into her bad mood for _hours_, days even, "_Make. Me._" A silence occurs, and she withdraws from him with a sneer of disgust, "I don't need this."

"You're _quitting_?"

"I'm not putting myself to work for an arrogant _idiot _like yourself," she swung her arm around to remove her maid's bonnet and slam it down on the counter, "so yes. I _am _quitting." _Damn_. He blew it, and on the first day too. He had no idea just how serious this girl was, she was completely and undeniably neurotic, to him anyway. She was almost as bad as— ugh. He hated even _thinking _about the name _Shihouin_. Her wicked eyes and catty grin, her devilish tricks. She always knew what to say to get him pissed off or turn him around from doing something he'd _originally_ planned to do his damn self. Like firing this little witch. He was like that woman's own personal doll.

It was sickening.

But it gave him an idea.

"Tch," Ichigo scoffed, he leaned back away from the island with his arms crossed over his chest, "I knew it. You wouldn't last a day."

"Don't—"

"And here everybody was, telling me that the Kuchiki's always stuck to what they sought out to do from start to finish. What's it called? _The Kuchiki Pride__— The Word of the Kuchiki—_some philosophical shit like that. But I guess, since you're adopted..." He saw a flicker in her eyes. Another mood change, god he could read this girl like a book, "I guess you're the only exception then, aren't you?" She tightened her hand around the little white bonnet, all she saw was Ichigo. All she saw was _red_. She wanted to kill this arrogant bastard for insulting her— for insulting _Byakuya _even.

She jerked the little thing away, trying it back on her head, "I _am_ a Kuchiki, god dammit."

"Oh really—"

"Yeah," she grouched, "and if you _ever _insult my brother's name, ever, I don't care where you are or how you do it. I'm going to make sure the rest of your life is a living nightmare. Remember that. _Kurosaki_."

Ichigo would most definitely be sleeping with his guard held high throughout the night tonight. Maybe even the rest of his life, as she once said. Damn.

This woman didn't play games. The Kuchiki name was one to be taken seriously, or not taken at all, and he would learn that whether it was the easy way...or the very _very _hard way.

***NOTE: Rangiku is a sneaky little devil, yes she is. I just love her, guys! Also, you can tell that Rukia's first day with Ichigo didn't go...quite...so well. Ok. They hate each other, officially. The future is _not _looking bright for Ichigo Kurosaki, but don't worry, they'll get to...****nah they'll still hate each other. The next chapter will definitely open up a little bit more into Rukia's maid life working for Ichigo, and she has got a _lot _to complain about.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I am pushin' em for you all, and remember!**

**Review review review!**


	8. Chapter 7

"Hey! Rukia!"

She paused in her footsteps, turning around to greet whomever had called her out specifically from among the crowd of other students on campus. She could see _him _from a mile away. His arms and neck are littered with black ink tattoos of intricate designs, that she told him absolutely _not _to get on the account that getting a job with all those tattoos may not be the easiest of tasks. Just looking out for a friend. Plus, his hair was absolutely eyeball searingly bright red, how could you _not _see him? It was almost just as noticeable as—

That _Kurosaki _bastard. Ugh.

"Hey Renji."

"Your classes over?" He'd finally made his way over to her, standing by her side and towering over her by several inches. If not, maybe even a whole foot. "Yeah."

"Where're you headed now?"

"_Work_," she grimaced. The thought of working with _him _just...it makes her skin crawl. "I see. Urahara told me you quit, said you got a new job with better pay. How's that working out for ya?" She shrugged nonchalantly. _Awful. I want to punch that idiot in his ugly mug the next time I see him— _"It's pretty okay I guess. It's easy. All it is is just some house work like cleaning, and maybe taking a few orders here and there. Nothing much. Even though my boss is a real...idiot."

She was putting it nicely by saying _idiot_. She could've called him something much, _much_ more foul. "Is he worse than Urahara?"

"_Probably_."

"Sucks. At least the pay's good..."

This conversation had been dragging along awkwardly casual so far. Usually, he would've said something idiotic by now that Rukia would have to scold him for but...he was being really. Weird. Everyone was acting weird since she took this job, perhaps it was Ichigo that was sending out vibes to all of her friends to act differently while around her. Except Rangiku, of course. "So..." Renji cleared his throat lightly, running his fingers through the length of his crimson locks, "you don't work on weekends. Right?" Rukia shook her head, "No."

"Cool. Cool."

"Renji," she stopped walking, dead in her tracks. Turning around to face him, "What the hell do you want to ask me? You're talking to me like I'm some girl you just met—"

"You wanna go to the beach? This Saturday?" He finally ground out the topic of his interest. She was drawn aback a little, baffled, was her childhood friend asking her on a _date_? "I mean, not just you and me. Alone. Together. That would be weird, right? No, it's gonna be you, me, Shinji and Hiyori, and some other people. What do you say? Wanna tag along? Rangiku's all for it."

Of course Rangiku is. She's been wailing since Fall about how she's going to tone her stomach to show off her new Summer ready bikini body when these Summer courses finally let out. Sooner's later than better, Rukia supposed, "So what do you say?"

"Huh—" She blinked, lost in her own world of thought for just a moment, "oh. Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Probably not the most reliable of responses, but it would do considering she's got more important things on her mind than going to the beach. Like how she's going to get through a day of Ichigo without cursing him to death. Or maybe she'll pour scolding hot coffee down his pants. She drummed her fingers lightly on her thigh at all the possibilities running through that fiendish little head of hers. The fact that Renji was still there, had been completely forgotten. "Okay," Renji said, once again, snapping Rukia out of her fantasy world, "see you Saturday then."

"Right," she responded flatly, waving farewell to him as he tore off down the sidewalk into the direction of his housing. Two more weeks, two more weeks and these summer courses will be over. Two more weeks and she can enjoy the rest of her summer in peace.

Oh wait. No she can't.

She still has to go to that idiot's oversized apartment. God. She tilts her head up to the heavens and sighs heavily, "_Why didn't I just quit and walk away..._?"

-xx-

"No!" Rangiku slammed her fist down on the coffee table, quaking the laptop, _and _Rukia's cup, "You can't quit! I'm getting sick and tired of your shit Rukia!"

Okay. Now she _really _had a reason not to quit her job. "You're always quitting when the slightest thing goes wrong, you've got to realize that you're going to work for people that you're not going to always like! Oh _fucking _well! Keep your head up high, do what you have to do to get the job done, get your check, and get the _fuck _out! And plus," she lowered her tone, calming back down to her usual self, "you still owe me rent."

"Right."

The power of Rangiku. Sometimes Rukia wondered why she even came to her with some of her problems, "Anyway. Which bikini should I wear this weekend? I bought a new one, but I still haven't worn my old one. You know, the pink one with the—"

"Wear the new one."

"You didn't let me finish."

"I don't care. I've seen enough pink. Wear the green one." Rukia's referring to Rangiku's newest bikini, which is green with orange flowers on the breasts and the top is in a bandeau style which she adores. Rangiku squinted her eyes, ultimately shrugging in defeat and plucking the bright green bikini from her drawer, "How was work today? You guys kiss and make up yet?"

Disgusting. "I didn't say a single word to that man. I ignored him and went about my duties. Then left."

"Did he try and say anything to _you_?"

Ichigo _had _been a bit uncomfortable with Rukia simply walking around and straightening his things for him without making an effort to say a word to him. Not even throw an insult at him. Not even fling a nasty look his way, she just, ignored him completely today. She could tell he felt uncomfortable, it was the way he looked, just staring at her every move. She'd caught him staring on more than a single occasion when she'd turn to glimpse at him from the corner of her eye, his eyes would just follow her around like, she was his property.

She hated that man. With a passion.

"Nope," she responded, falling back against the carpet with her arms spread, "I wouldn't have responded anyway."

"So that's just it then? You guys are going to ignore each other for the rest of the time you're working for him, until he fires you— because I _know_," her pin sharp eyes jabbed holes into Rukia's skull the way she stared at her, "you're not quitting."

"I guess so." Rukia rolled over on her side, picking at the fibers of the carpet, "I could care less. I could go the rest of my life without saying a single word to him, if I had to."

"You're a real piece of work, Rukia." Rangiku twirled around on the heel of her foot. She brought her arms high above her head to accentuate the curves of her breasts, pushing strands of blonde behind her ear, "Now. Should I fix my hair behind, or _in front _of my face...?"

Jesus. It's only Tuesday, and this woman is already driving her crazy with preparations for the weekend, about something as simple as _swim wear_. Rukia rolled back onto her stomach, flattening her face into the carpet. This way, it was harder to breathe.

-xx-

"I understand exactly where she's coming from. I'd want to kick your ass too," Uryuu chuckled, traveling back to Ichigo's couch with a short glass of scotch in his left grip, "honestly Kurosaki. Do you _think _before that big mouth of yours opens to speak? That's how you got into a lot of trouble back in high school."

"I'm screwed," Ichigo groaned while massaging his temples, "she's gonna try to kill me one day, I know it."

"So? Why not just fire her and solve all your problems that way?"

"I already got her all fired up to keep working for me by _insulting _her pride, or something like that. Now she's never going to quit, and _I _can't fire her. Then I'll just look like a coward."

"Damn," he said, "what about today? Did she say something to you?" Ichigo rolled his eyes, huffing belligerently, "No. Acted like I was invisible. In _my _damn apartment. Bitch."

"You insulted her. And her dead brother."

"I did not," his voice rose in defense, "I didn't say a thing about...whatever his name is...dammit." He was always terrible with names. Faces are all he could remember, and even then they were always fuzzy, and have only gotten worse now that he gets these reoccurring headaches. Which for some odd reason, he hasn't gotten one today since Rukia came and left. Uryuu shrugged his shoulders, "Sounds like a problem you'll just have to deal with then. Unless you've come up with some way to make it so that you both come around to liking each other again..._without _using sexual methods maybe?"

What the hell?

The last thing that's been on Ichigo's mind since he and Rukia had their quarrel in his kitchen is having sex with her, in fact, the entire day today while he was staring at her he didn't have one dirty thought. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe that proved that he just hated her as much as she probably hated him now. Uryuu roamed the premises of Ichigo's apartment for probably the hundredth time, he finds himself a comfortable position sitting on the bench in front of his grand piano and sets his glass beside him, "You know, I kinda feel bad for you Kurosaki. All this room, and you've done a good job decorating it..."

"What's your point, Ishida?"

"Don't you think it's time you've found another woman to share it all with?" He pushed up the cover shielding the keys of the piano, grazing the tips of his finger along the cool glossed ivory. Pushing down on a random key with his index finger, and humming soundly when the note rings into the air. Then another, and another...

Uryuu brings both his hands up to the trail of keys, hitting a key with a significant note in a specific order so that he's playing _Fur Elise _composed by Ludwig van Beethoven while in Ichigo's company. Ichigo's silent, not only is he listening to the music Uryuu is playing but he's also thinking about what he's said. _Don't you think it's time you've found another woman to share it all with? _He clenches his hand tightly around his glass, so tightly the joints of his knuckles softly crack, inaudible under the sound of—

"Ah," Uryuu soughed, ceasing to play immediately after he's hit the wrong key and brought a sour note into the sweet melodic sound, "Almost had it. Still not as close to being as good as you though, just gotta keep working on it."

"You were doing fine. Just a little bit slow," Ichigo says from the couch. He gently slides the cover of the keys back over to protect them once more, "And you missed a note in the 3rd to last measure before you messed up, but that's it."

If there was a single thing, just _one_ _little _thing on this big blue Earth that Ichigo was better at than Uryuu, it was piano. Though he didn't look like it, he was a genius with his piano, a maestro with his piano. He could bring tears to people's eyes with the sound of his music, and he actually has, at Uryuu and Orihime's wedding when he was asked to play for their banquet. Uryuu picks his glass up from the piano bench, stepping over it with his long extensive legs as he walks over to a small table against the wall opposite to the grand piano. It's a memorabilia, one he's quite familiar with, and one that tugs the strings of his heart slightly because well.

He knew the woman in the photos, she'd died years ago.

She was the only woman Ichigo ever loved.

He dragged his fingers along the edge of one of the large frames of her and Ichigo, dropping it off once he's reached a sharp corner and bringing his hand over to another frame with just a bust shot of the woman herself. A bust shot of her in sepia tone, with the words _Rest in peace _in white cursive below. And a red ribbon tied around the frame. "Do you miss her?"

"Kuchiki?" Ichigo asked dumbly. He knew who Uryuu was talking about.

He just didn't want to answer. He didn't want to think about her much, if at all. Uryuu sniggered lightly, "You were going to marry her, y'know." Ichigo bit the absolute _hell _out of his bottom lip, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against his couch, "I know."

"She was a beautiful woman...I would've really loved to see the both of you happy together. Even to this day."

Why does Ichigo feel the uncanny need to _vomit_? Not because he's sickened by what Uryuu has said, but because his chest is tightening. Because his stomach is twisting itself into undoable knots. "_Uh_..." he groaned, dropping his head to the side to rest on his own shoulder, "You okay Kurosaki?"

"Yeah, I just...I'm not feeling too hot. I might turn in early tonight."

"Hm." Uryuu withdrew from the small table to enter back into the living room, setting his glass upon Ichigo's living room table. "I should start heading home anyway, Orihime's probably home from work waiting for me. You should get some rest, I'll email you a case file I just got today on some kid. Pretty weird stuff some of these people...see you around, Kurosaki." He didn't respond. He simply rested his ear on his right shoulder in silence as his chest gently heaved to the pace of his breathing. Uryuu let himself out the door, softly closing it behind him, and when he does, Ichigo's eyes reopen.

He isn't sick.

He's just sick of people.

He throws the rest of his scotch to the back of his throat, taking Uryuu's while he's at it, swallowing both mouthfuls down greedily. His phone vibrates against the glass with a new text message blinking on the screen from an unknown recipient:

_Ichigo?_

He reads only his name in the small font letters of the text. Who the hell is this? He replies, setting his phone back to rest on his couch cushion. He pushes up to his feet, stretching his long arms and legs before he's walking around to his kitchen—

His phone vibrates. He takes it, and reads: _We met at the cafe. Remember? The girl at the register? _

Oh. It's her. He almost ignores it, but something is itching in the back of his head, telling him to reply. It's short but it's subtle, he's gotten straight to the point with a simple,

_What are you doing tonight?_

He knows Rukia's going to be here early in the morning, hell maybe this'll scare her off. He doesn't care. He just has some _stress _that needs to be released for the night...

-xx-

It's been a week, a whole freakin' week since this bitch of a maid has decided to ignore his existence. Even after her weekend with friends at the beach, she still hasn't said anything to him. She hasn't bothered to tell him about how Rangiku had gotten these boys so worked up while she was posing on shore that they'd practically forgotten they were surfing and completely wiped out under some enormous wave.

Two lives almost ended that day, with the ER rolling onto the beach to take them away.

She didn't tell him about how Renji had tried to impress her by building some medieval sandcastle, only for it to be washed away by the ocean. Whatever. Things like that didn't impress her anyhow. She didn't bother to tell him about how Hiyori had shoved a crab down Shinji's scarlet red speedo _just _because he had worn a speedo to the beach. Honestly, she didn't want to. She didn't want that image to stick to the back of her brain at all. _Yuck_. They'd all planned to have the same beach trip next Saturday, in celebration of summer college courses being over, thank god. Maybe then she'd wear a more extravagant bathing suit...

Not her dark blue one piece that made her look like an 11 year old girl. At least, that's how Rangiku described it, right after she tore it to pieces the moment Rukia took it off back at home. Saying she'd buy her a new one, a better one, she only hoped she would be able to maintain her dignity with having _Rangiku _of all people decide on what she should wear to the beach. Or anywhere for that matter.

It was just a week ago that Rukia came to Ichigo's apartment and found him still sleeping in his bed by himself, but the other side was messy as if there had been someone else sleeping there. She also found a pair of skimpy black panties lying on the ground on that side of the bed as well. At least now she knew he wasn't gay, but of course that discovery didn't extinguish or dim her blazing hatred for him still.

He's silent. She's silent. He's sitting at his desk, reading across his computer screen. She's rubbing down his mirror with a silk white cloth to remove dust, and then she does something she _knows _will get him annoyed...

She tilts it. Just a bit. But enough to where he notices, and he squints, but still says nothing.

She's unamused by his restraint, and tilts the mirror even more, more so to the point where it's now a kite shape hanging on his wall, and she adjusts her ponytail while looking in it. Still wearing Rangiku's little accessories, like she had a choice. She had to go through an inspection every god damn morning just so she could make sure Rukia _was _wearing them. Ichigo just sighs, standing up from his chair.

She's got him now.

He only gently nudges her to move out of his way as he twists the mirror back, righting it the way it was before. Rukia blinks in astonishment, pinching her hands to her hips. This whole silent treatment thing is getting a little stuffy. Ichigo turns away from his mirror to find her looking at him, and he looks back. She jumps, turning her nose up in the air and walking out of his office all together and stops only a few feet from the door to look back over her shoulder.

He's turned his back to her, returning to his desk and taking a seat, tending to his business behind his laptop.

This is getting pathetic. The whole statement about, how she could "_ignore him for the rest of her life_" wasn't entirely going as planned. Rangiku was right. God, was there ever a time where she _wasn't _right?

Rukia hated that. It was number one on her list of pet peeves: "_Rangiku being right_".

She charged angrily to his sink, snatching a black mug from his dish drying stand across the counter and filling it up from the filter tap with water. Returning to his office, exploding through his doors and he jumps in appall. She slams the mug down on his desk with a loud _clacking _sound and a bit of water spills out onto the wooden desk and her hand.

Silence.

"_What_?"

Got him.

"Nothing," she said, rubbing her hand against her dress to dry, "you looked thirsty. So I brought you some water. Problem?"

How does one _look _thirsty? Yes, this was a problem. It was a huge problem to him. One day insulting him and swearing at him, the next _several _days she's ignoring him, and now. _This_? "Okay," he replied in monotone, dry as ever. Rukia pinched her eyes shut, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Ichigo raised a brow, has he said something wrong? She reopens her violet hues, dropping one of her hands from her hips, "What's wrong with you?" He asked her straight forwardly. "_Me_? Why's there something wrong with _me_?" Rukia rolled her neck at him, "Why can't there be something wrong with _you_?"

"Because there isn't."

"Then why do you look so—"

"Kuchiki," Ichigo sighed, massaging his forehead with his fingers, "I'm not feeling well today so please, _please_ don't."

She rolled her eyes around in their sockets, exiting his office as she did before, but first...

she slaps her hand against the corner of the mirror to tilt it. _Just_ a bit. But enough to where he notices, and closes his eyes to count to ten. Rukia smiles inwardly in self victory, swinging her hips as she tends to making arrangements to the rest of his home however she pleases...

-xx-

Steadily, more and more his patience is running thin with this woman. Yesterday she wasn't here, and today she's back with the fury of...there's nothing as bad as her. She's completely made a mess of his house, not in huge ways or matters to where he notices right away, but little things that just irk the _fuck _out of him.

Like tilting all the mirrors in his house.

Or flipping his pillows to the wrong side, turning the picture frames over on his walls so they're showing the other side instead of the actual picture. Other than that, his _apartment _is clean...

And now she's just wiping away, like it's nothing, stretching high on the tip of her toes to reach a spot on his window. He catches her in the act of this, and _almost _cracks a grin at how pathetic she looks struggling to get that single spot until she finally jumps to get it. How cute. Ichigo returns to his bedroom and sits down on the edge of his bed, slowly removing his necktie with a low miserable sigh.

He's tired. Having been at the hospital all morning after Uryuu has called him in, he's actually _glad _to be back in his apartment with this little witch. He decides, he's going to wash the stresses of his day away with a short shower to relax his tense muscles...

Meanwhile. Rukia flops down on his couch and throws the rag on his coffee table, retrieving her cellphone from her left bra-cup to speed dial Rangiku with a single press of a button. She waits patiently during the dial tone, counting up to two rings... "_What are you doing? Aren't you still at work?_"

A hello would've been nice. Rukia rolls her eyes, leaning back against the leather exterior of Ichigo's furnishing, "Yeah. But I'm pretty much done with everything now, and we still aren't talking. Well. Barely anyway. So it isn't like he's giving me much to do..."

"_Poor baby. Must be bored out of your mind in that big expensive penthouse apartment? __Sho shaaaad._" Rangiku teased, Rukia wishes she could hit her through the transmitter, "_What are you doing?_" She yawns softly, stretching for the remote on the table, but quits once she realizes it's _just _out of her reach. And she's _just _too damn lazy to get up and get it, "I'm sitting down on his couch, in front of his big fancy television. It's got a remote to it, but knowing the crap idiots with money spend it on it's probably voice activated too..."

"_You'd know about that kind of stuff, not me. I'm not the one who used to live in a big fancy mansion._"

_Used _to. Rukia laughed a bit, "Yeah." She looks up to the flat screen television hanging up on his wall. Maybe it _is _voice activated. "On." She calls out to it.

Nothing. Guess not. "_You didn't seriously just..._"

"I did," Rukia sighed, "I'm just so god damn _bored _Ran..."

"_Ask him if you can take the rest of the day off. I'm sure he wouldn't mind since he pretty much hates the living shit out of you, am I right? I mean. You guys hate the living shit out of *each other*. My bad._"

"I don't want to ask him anything, _especially _not a favor. Not after that whole thing he gave me about my family name..." Speaking of Ichigo, ever since he's gotten home he's been quiet. He should be hearing this right now, she's speaking loudly enough for him to at _least _comment about how she's talking on the phone during work. Maybe he passed out. Maybe she should go check on him. "Gimme a second. I think _Master Kurosaki _might be dead. I'll call you back."

"_Take your time_."

She hangs up, setting her phone on the glass coffee table. With a strong push, she lifts from the couch and begins exploring the rooms of his apartment to find this man. First his office, empty. The kitchen's empty, and the living room too. She's just been in there. And of course the area with his piano is empty, which she knows for a fact because it's placed in the open space beside his living area. _What's with that thing anyway? Does he even know how to play that? _The last place to check, is upstairs.

She walks up each step, slowly. Why would she be in any kind of rush to find _him_? She enters his bedroom to silence, but it's hotter than usual, humid in fact. Automatically, her eyes go to the clothes thrown sloppily on his bed and some on the floor and she grumbled lowly to herself, "_Idiot_." She walks in to retrieve the articles of clothing, unaware that Ichigo is opening his bathroom door right behind her.

He steps out, naked, holding a pale blue towel around his waist but that's all. Looking at Rukia's ass in the air _again_. That's always nice. Rukia vaults up from the ground immediately once she feels the steam from the bathroom roll against her skin through her silk leggings, and she turns around, dropping every single thing she's picked up back to the floor. Ichigo blinked, just looking at her face— which had already begun to confuse him. A twisted expression of embarrassment and shock with her cheeks turning a dark pink. He didn't even know she was _capable _of getting embarrassed. "What," he says, stepping out of his bathroom and getting closer to her, "what are you doing here?"

"I—" Rukia choked, her voice is slightly higher and she slaps her hands over her mouth to hide it. Oh my god she hopes he didn't catch that, but by the look on his face, he has. And he's amused. "I was— I mean. I came up here, to find...and got your. Your. Naked."

_Clothes_, she griped inwardly, _I meant clothes_.

"You came up here to find me naked?"

"That's not what I...meant to...say."

Good lord. Was she staring? Probably. How _couldn't she_? There he stood right in front of her with glistening peach skin dripping wet with fresh water droplets _still _rolling down every curve of his muscles...and that ridiculous orange hair of his is lying flat. Oddly enough, it looks sexy, only slightly spiked and dripping wet on his carpet and over his face. _Oh my god_, Rukia swallowed the saliva building up in her mouth down her throat. He looks like a picture in a magazine, he looks _better _than that. This adonis of a man is her _boss_?

Bullshit.

"Rukia?" Ichigo snaps her attention back to his face with the sound of his voice, oh right. She almost forgot she hates him. "Did you find what you needed?"

What did she come up here for again? It's as if with every step he brings himself closer to being _right _in front of her, she finds that her memory is getting shadier and shadier until—

he's standing right _beside_ her. Not in front of her for her to feast her eyes on his amazing pectorals and obliques, and his toned abdomen that's she's _pretty _sure she could do her laundry on if she wanted to. She lowers her head to gaze at her feet, covered in white silk, "_I_..." _Why is it so damn hard to talk all of a sudden? __Just say something...anything! _

"You should probably say something...before one of us gets carried away."

_What_? She twisted her head, body and all to look up at him staring down at his bedding. His hair is still dripping wet, dampening his sheets, "_Well_?"

"I was going to...ask you if I could...take the rest of the day off." She said it. She finally _forced _herself to say it while her mind still worked effortlessly to unscramble what he had meant by getting _carried away_. She'd known, she's known all along though she didn't want to bask upon the sexual possibilities in her mind while he was _right here_. He stood silently. Why isn't he looking her in the eyes? He's not scowling at her like he usually does...it's just plain weird to her at how completely dry he's acting.

As if he's done with her. As if he's done with everything. What the hell has him this damn depressed? "You can leave if you want to."

"I'll be back tomo—"

"Kuchiki," Ichigo said, turning his head to face her. He finally did it, he finally looks her in the eyes and when he does they're so very empty. Empty, and _dark_, "just go."

"Just..._go_? You mean, like—"

"I know you hate working here. I know you're only doing it to prove me wrong over some ignorant things I said to make you stay, and I know you hate _me_. So just do yourself a favor, will you?" Is he _firing _her? "I don't under...stand..."

"I won't keep forcing you to come back on my account. I'm telling you that if you want to go, you can go. That's all."

_That's all? That's **all**?_ He says it like it's nothing, like she's just something he can brush off at anytime he wants to. Her heart sinks to the lowest pits of her stomach, but she bites her lip to keep from further objecting. Ichigo turned away from her once more, staring down at his bed, but from the corner of his eye he saw the bottom of her black dress slightly flutter as she spun around to leave him in his room alone. She slammed his bedroom door shut, storming down the stairs with her heart racing, "_Fucking idiot,_" she swore lowly with her cracking voice.

She rubbed an approaching tear away with the back of her hand from her right eye, only for more to generate in her left. _Why the hell am I crying?_

_That stupid...I...fucking hate him. _Rukia collected her phone, she grabbed her shoes and neglected to put them on because of the hurry she's in. She just wants to get the _hell _out of Ichigo's house. And get _him _the hell our of _her _life, as she steps out the door, and closes it violently. "_Ugh..._" Ichigo groans upstairs in his room as he drops to his bed belly first, lying across his mattress with his head tilted and his cheek pressed against his blanket, "_what the hell...was that about?_" He closes his eyes, exhaling lowly from his nostrils and curling his fingers across the silk of his sheets. _Whatever_. For now, he'll just have to worry about how he's going to deal with this headache that's _just _crept up on him...

***NOTE: Ok, so I know what you're all thinking.**

**"OH MY GOD, WHY IS THIS EVIL SADISTIC TROLL OF AN AUTHOR JUMBLING UP MY FEELS INTO A GIANT BALL CHEWING IT UP AND SPITTING IT AT ME AKFHJSGFJD;"**

**I have to say. I feel like Kubo Tite a little bit with my IchiRuki trolling. *v***

**This chapter for me was unf, idk why, 'cause I mean. I wrote it. Is it weird that I felt the feels too? ;a; I'm the worst. Hope you enjoyed it, you probably didn't, but I still want all you beautiful people to review even though they'll all probably be about how much you want to rip my head off. Also, for those of you who are probably like, omg who's this mystery woman Ichigo was gonna marry aaaah**

**it'll be revealed.**

**Dun dun dun...later.**

**The foreshadowing should bring you clues though!**

**Till next chapter! **


	9. Chapter 8

"Ichigo's back!" Yuzu cheered giddily, spreading the door open wide and welcoming Ichigo in. Karin peered over the backboard over the couch, for just a moment, throwing her hand up in greeting with her index and middle finger pressed together while her ring finger and pinky were spread to the opposite side to form a gap in between. What is that? The Vulcan peace sign? "Greetings, brother." She said to Ichigo, who's staring at her with this...really stupid look.

"Are you excited for our picnic!?"

Ah. That's right. Ichigo rubbed the side of his neck and smiled at Yuzu, speaking of which, he noticed how she's gotten to his shoulders now with her height. He probably just wasn't paying attention the first time around he came to visit, "Yeah. Can't wait to have more of your awesome cooking."

"Why wait!?" She spun into her kitchen on one foot, like some sort of crack riddle ballerina, pulling out a chair for Ichigo to sit, "You can eat some right now!"

Jeez. She's going to make him so fat. "Thanks," he laughed, "I'm not really hungry. I ate before I came here." She frowned, narrowing her eyes at him, how could you not be hungry for some of Yuzu's delicious cuisine? Was he absolutely mad? The picnic wasn't until Friday when they had planned to go to the beach, and today was only Wednesday. Two days after Rukia left, and she hasn't come back yet. But then again, did he truly expect her to?

"What's wrong Ichigo?" Yuzu chirped in concern. Ichigo hadn't even noticed that he probably had been looking sad the whole time thinking about her, but why? Why the hell would he be _upset_? He hated her. They hated each other. That has already been established. "Nothing—"

"You can't lie to us, you know? We're family. We know when one of us are feeling like complete shit." Karin said from the couch. Seriously. When did she start cursing like that? "It's just a headache."

"I'll make you some tea," she turned away from Ichigo to attend to her kitchen once again. When was Yuzu not in the kitchen? It was her domain, if she could, she'd sleep in it. Who's to say she hasn't? She pulls a kettle out from under one of the kitchen cabinets, bringing it to the sink to fill it with filtered water from the tap in which she only has to tap on the faucet to activate. That's pretty fancy. "So how's Chikane?"

That's right. Ichigo hasn't told them about her retiring a _long _time ago. "Chikane?" He repeats the name as if it's brand new to him, "I haven't seen that woman in ages..."

"She isn't doing your housekeeping anymore?"

"Oh my god," Karin gasped, rolling off the couch in shock. She sprang to her feet, staring out into the kitchen area with her hands pressed to her face, "Ichigo is actually cleaning up his own house!? I can't even..." is all she can muster, until she falls to the ground dramatically with her hand on her forehead. She's such a douche. He'd rather sit here and lie than bring up Rukia and have her on his mind all day today, like he did yesterday. And the day before. "You know what," he slid into the chair Yuzu's pulled out for him, pushing himself in with his legs underneath the table, "I think I am kind of hungry. What do you have for me, Yuzu?"

She smiles brightly, running back to the fridge and flinging it open, "Well! I have some..."

He doesn't hear her. He only watches as she cheerfully examines every article of food in her refrigerator and looks back at him with glistening eyes. They kinda remind him of—

God dammit.

"Ichigo?"

He slowly lowered his chin into the palm of his hand with his elbow propped up on the table, staring at Yuzu with gazeless eyes. Almost as if he's dreaming of something while he's looking at her. Of some_one_. He blinks once, and Yuzu looks over to Karin who's glancing over the kitchen bar in concern as well at Ichigo's silence before her mutters softly, "..._Yeah_."

He wonders what she's doing right now...

-xx-

Lying down in the gray of her own room, Rukia keeps her door locked for the third day in a row today. She lies on her blanketless bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands folded under her head. Rangiku has given up on trying to check on her, leaving things outside her door or announcing when she leaves or comes back, it's obvious when a person simply needs time by themselves like she does. She stares across her junky plain room at the table across from her against the wall, and the Chappy bunny plush toy with a missing eye and floppy ear.

Around it lies, simply put, trash. Useless things like empty bottles and...just. Trash. How did her room even get to this point? She winced a bit, feeling a sharp pain attacking the top of her head but nothing's there. It's just a headache. She's been getting those lately too...a lot like in the way _he _does.

She crushes her eyelids shut over her eyes, sinking her head in lower to her chest to try and find relief from the heaviness. It feels like something's pushing down on her ribcage.

Suffocating her.

She releases a shallow breath, inhaling afterwards to replace her low air supply. It hurts just to do that. But she doesn't understand, _why_? _Why _does it hurt so much?

She hates that man.

He hates her.

To put it simply, they're enemies. So why should she be upset if...

She rose from her mattress to collect her vibrating cellphone off the nightstand at the foot of her bed, staring at the caller on her phone. Renji Abarai flashed brightly on her screen. She answers it, clearing her throat before she speaks to ensure there's nothing amiss with her voice, "_Hello_?"

"_Rangiku told me to call you. What's wrong?_"

Rangiku. Rukia swallowed hard, "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"_Are you sick?_"

"Renji," she said, "don't worry about it." He grew silent, sighing heavily through the phone, "_Alright_," were his last words of defeat. "_Feeling well enough to still come to the beach on Saturday?_" She paused a moment, oh yeah. She forgot all about that, was she really in the mood for something like that though? In her mood, all she would probably do is bring everyone else down, "I'll think about it."

"_Alright_," he said, "_well. I'm gonna let you go...take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything._"

She hung up the phone without another word, setting it back down on her night stand and standing up on her mattress to jump off at the end. It was time she got up anyway, he muscles were tense and they hurt from lying around doing nothing for so long. She scooped her foot up underneath something lying on her carpet, looking down to find, it was her work uniform.

Well. Her uniform for her _former _job anyway. She wasn't going back there. Not when he has pushed her away the way he did.

Just thinking about it infuriated her to the point where she wanted to drive over there and trash his entire apartment. She still had his key. So why the hell not—

Wait a minute.

She glances back at the table, looking beside the tattered left paw of her Chappy plush. The shine of a small silver key card is quick to catch her eye, and she bites her lip tremendously hard. Dammit. The urges to fulfill that fantasy are just...not strong enough to get her arrested for doing something that _stupid_. Just because he told her she could go if she wanted to.

If she _wanted _to.

But by the way she was acting now, did she really even know herself? If she wanted to, she could go back. If she didn't, she could stay...here...alone. Is this how Ichigo felt?

It must've been. It's no wonder he held on to her even after she was so rude to him after all that time she spent working for him over the course of several weeks. He was just. _Lonely_.

Like she was. Right now.

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes in reconsideration of her next action. _Should I...? _She stumbled forward, catching herself with her hand to her forehead. For the first time she felt like _she _was getting sick, which hadn't happened in so long it was all so brand new. This is..._so_ shitty. _Whatever_. _Screw what he thinks of me_. She collects her maid's uniform off the ground, discarding the clothes she wears now and replacing them with it. She'll show him.

"I'm a Kuchiki," she mumbled softly to herself, fixing her bonnet atop her head in the mirror hanging crookedly on her wall. She pauses, stopping to straighten it until it's perfect, pulling her hair up into a perfect ponytail high up on the back of her head, "God _dammit_."

-xx-

"Thanks for the meal Yuzu. Bye Karin, bye guys. I'll see you both Saturday."

"You promise you won't come up with some _business _excuse?"

Hahaha.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, pulling Karin's head into the pit of his chest and shaking her by the shoulder, "Shut up." He turned around to embrace Yuzu, hugging her tightly and releasing her to walk towards the door and head out with a final goodbye and a wave. And a Tupperware bowl full of Yuzu's food. He steps out into the cool of the afternoon, this is the only time of day where Karakura ever gets cool now during the Summer. It's around noon, when the sun's only partially shining and the clouds do most of the work of cooling off everybody down below. Which he's thankful for.

He gets into the driver's seat of his car, sighing, pressing the button to start his engine and then pressing his forehead against the steering wheel. Dear god, if he didn't get home now his head was going to explode and Karin and Yuzu would have to come mop up the inside of his car with a sham-wow towel or _something_.

Christ.

He backed out of their driveway, glancing down at the cigarette still crushed at the end of the concrete trail and wrinkling his nose in disgust. He can't believe Karin actually smokes those things. It's only a short drive from his house to his sister's, getting back was a breeze but it was the simple task of driving that was absolutely _killing _him right now. Sitting behind this red light, behind this dumbass driver who's let three cars pass them when they could've turned a god damn millennium ago.

He considers getting out of his all black Mercedes Benz and causing an all out road rage brawl with the stupid son of a bitch, but lucky for them, they _finally _make their turn. Lucky for _them_. He mumbles under his breath. Pulling into the private garage of his condominium complex, he wonders _why _this ugly little red car is in his space as first, and then simply parks in the one next to it. He'll come back to key up it's side door later. Right now, he's feeling generous.

"Good evening Mr. Kurosaki," the security guard behind the front desk greets Ichigo with the tip of his hat and he nods back, "Whatcha got there?" He asks, referring to the bowl in Ichigo's hand. "Just some of my sister's cooking."

"Oooh," the man coos greedily, "does she still bake those amazing puff pastries? She brought me some a few weeks ago when she dropped by to visit. Such a sweet and lovely woman." That's nice. The last thing he wants to do is sit here and discuss his younger sister's cooking with some old security guard who's been working a desk job since— god only knows when. "I'll see you later."

"You take care now."

Ichigo flashes the front of his magnetic card before the small pad bolted into the wall and the light shines green, allowing him access to the building. He walks through a series of hallways, boarding the first elevator that's open which unsettling enough, has other passengers in it. Perfect.

It's cramped. He's in between some woman wearing _way _too much perfume, a couple of drunk teenagers making out in the corner— how the hell did they even get in here? They must've been with the guy in the t-shirt with his hands in his pockets, looking around all too uncomfortably. He looked like he could pass off living here, not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. Maybe a drunken teenage party? Ichigo was glad he lived on the 40th fucking floor.

He's the last one boarded, with his back against the wall as he waits for the elevator to reach his floor, which doesn't take long. His apartment is the only thing up there. A _real _penthouse, with no other rooms around him to disturb him which is perfect for a guy who pretty much hates the human race and all who inherit it. Except attractive women.

And sometimes Uryuu.

And his sisters.

And then there was this one guy who used to always give him free coupons for 50 percent off milk at the grocery store nearby. He wonders where he went, then wonders why he cares. Ichigo yawns loudly, flashing his card across the pad of his door, pushing down the knob, and pushing himself in to the lonesomeness of his apartment.

To find Rukia.

Looking up from the ground and covered in...god what _is _that? She looks like she's had an accident with a coke addict who's dumped their entire supply on her and ran off. "Kuchiki..." Ichigo says, almost as if he's out of breath. His heart skips once over and he _almost _drops his key, but doesn't. Rukia blinks, slowly standing up from the ground and beating the white powder off of her dress with her hands, "Hi."

_Hi? _That's not usually the type of response to give to someone who's house you've broken— well. Maybe not _broken_...either way. He didn't expect her to be here. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come back."

Again, there goes that excited heart of his. Always jumping over certain beats when it _needs _to stay on track before he keels over from a heart attack, "Why?"

_Why_? She twitches. "Why can't you just accept the fact that I'm here?"

"I didn't expect you to come back, that's why."

"Well I am back." She wiggled her fingers up beside her face, "See? Right here." He wanted to laugh at her for being so ridiculous, but a small grin would suffice. He looked down to his shoes, sighing from his nose before looking back up at her, "You didn't have to come back." Rukia narrowed her eyes, fed up with his constant need to respond with: _You didn't have to come back. I didn't expect to see you. What are you doing here?_

Just shut up and accept it, is all she wants.

"Jesus..." she mumbles softly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You're an idiot."

"What did I do?" Ichigo entered his kitchen, dropping his keys off on the island and unbuttoning the cuffs of his work shirt. She rolled her eyes, returning her attention back to the mess of white powder on the hardwood floor. The longer she ignored him, the more hard pressed he was to get a response from her. "_Hello?_"

"Nothing. Just...do what you have to do or...whatever. I'm just." She paused, wiping up the remaining bit of the powder on the ground and disappearing around the corner into another one of Ichigo's _countless _rooms. Jesus. This man was absolutely clueless...

_That stupid bastard. I came back and...how the hell can somebody be that stupid?_

If there were such a thing as angry wiping, Rukia was doing and doing it with a passion that would put any other to shame. First, on her hands and knees with the white rag on his wooden floor, she begins to mentally curse Ichigo. Wish him death actually. _I hope that migraine of his turns out to be something worse._

_Rest in peace, Byakuya._

She sighed quickly, dropping her head in grief, "What am I doing? I should just quit..."

_No_! She can hear Rangiku's rambunctious bickering now, telling her not to quit. Telling her that Byakuya would look down on her even more than he already _prooobably _does considering that she's on her hands and knees wiping dust off another man's floor. A man that she positively hates for that matter. But again, she'd rather do this than go through a whole— who knows how long of...

_That_.

It's unusually quiet today for the both of them to be in the same place, Ichigo and Rukia. _Again_. She grunted lightly, lifting from the ground and to her feet to brush the soreness from her knees, and _who turned that damn radio on_?

Ichigo.

He knows she can't work with noise. It's one of many on her seemingly infinite list of pet peeves, so _of __course _he just had to go and do it. "That inconsiderate bastard," she spat venom through her grinding teeth. Tonight may be the night Rukia Kuchiki commits murder, tonight may just be...

She rounds the corner and freezes in an awestruck trance. _That bastard _hadn't turned on a radio, he was playing the piano. And doing it exceptionally well.

_Extraordinarily _well.

Wait a second. Is this really the same guy? Rukia begins to question her own sanity, after all, she _has _been around Ichigo for about a month or so... She trails further into the room, having yet to be seen by the maestro on his keys, showcasing a display of classical art that she honestly didn't think he had in him. She _honestly _thought...the piano was just for show. Rich people really did that for some off reason. Ichigo is completely unaware of her presence which is fine, she doesn't want to be seen, behaving as discreetly as possibly.

She watches from a distance as his fingers fly from one shiny ivory key to the other as if it comes naturally to him, as if it's such a simple thing to do. _Anyone_ can do it. She goes about, pretending to wipe in circular motions on the small black table against the wall underneath the large mirror hanging above it, she notices several frames. They're picture frames, with pictures in them of Ichigo and women— no. Only one woman. Rukia reaches down to touch the edge of the frame—

Until her eardrum is assaulted with the absolute crash collision of several horrifying notes jumbled together at once as if he's slammed both his fists into the keys. What the _fuck_? She squares her shoulders tensely, now completely aware, that she's been made. And yet still...he says nothing. He rises up from the bench, shutting the cover over the piano's keys without a word. Without a sound. Rukia's heart is racing, _why the hell won't he say something_?

"That was," she cracks the silence with her own speech, "really...something. I didn't know you could play piano like that."

Silence.

"Yeah."

She expected a response more along the lines of, "_no shit._" or, "_what you thought I'd just throw my money away on a fucking grand piano for nothing?_". Her wiping motion stops and she stands with her back turned to him as he does to her. Completely quiet. "Was she...your wife?"

_Why are you asking that kind of question? Why would you want to know__?_

She's referring to the dark haired woman in all of Ichigo's photos. She's tall and lean, and beautiful. With raven strands dropping to her shoulders and eyes that are a golden honey brown. In one photo her hair is in a ponytail, swept over her shoulder and kept in tact by a red ribbon that she's touching delicately and smiling at Ichigo. It must've been special.

He has it tied around the frame.

Ichigo stood quietly, motionlessly for several seconds before responding flatly to Rukia's interrogative, "No." _Leave it at that then_. _It's over_. "She must've been pretty special to you for you to have this memorabilia of her in your livi—"

"You know what Kuchiki?"

Fuck. He's upset now. He pulled away from his piano approaching her on heavy foot before stopping inches away from her body. She turned to meet him, frozen, staring up into his dark eyes. They're like pits of weary emotion seeping out and dragging her into them against her will, though she's fighting to stay out of them. To stay _away _from him, this man she hates so damn much, "If there's something you want to say just say it. Otherwise, I don't see why we're sitting here having a conversation like we're all buddy buddy. So you know what? You can go home for the night. I don't see much for you to do around here anymore."

Rukia sees red, and for a good minute, that's all she sees while she's looking at him, "_You...unbelievable...thickheaded...bastard!_"

"Oh yeah?"

"What the hell is _wrong _with you!? What the— what the _fuck _makes you think talking to me like I'm lower than you is going to keep me _working_ for you!? You, you have all these fucking problems, with your family— your _everything_— hell, your whole fucking life is a big fucking problem! _God_!"

She isn't sure if she's ever sworn this much in all of her years. This man had a talent of pissing her off, "And then you _expect _people to know how you're feeling, you _expect _people to just— either help you or not bother you because your in whatever mood your in, _fuck _that! You think you're better than me, Kurosaki? Well you're not. _You're _the one acting childish here, not me."

"_Then why don't you quit?_"

"Is that what you want? Is that what you _really _want? You want me to quit so you can go back to living in this big for no fucking reason _castle _of yours all by your damn self—"

"_Please_," Ichigo leaned backwards, laughing smugly, "don't even sit here and try to tell me that you were still working for me because you _cared _about me."

"You're right," she replied nastily, "I don't give a _damn_ about you, Kurosaki. I think you're filth. I think you're lower than that. And that's the _god's honest _truth. Which is more than you've _ever _given to me."_  
_

"You want truth? Do you _really _want me to tell you the truth Kuchiki?"

"Yes!" She grabbed her head in exaggeration, "_Yes_ you big fucking— tell me the god damn _truth _so I can finally know what the hell is _wrong with you_!"

Ichigo licked his lips, rubbing his hand down his face before he turns away from her with his hand pinching his hip, "Fine." He turned back to meet her at the wall, which she pressed her back into, she didn't expect for him to recover so fast. He dropped his hand from his mouth to his side, throwing both of them up in surrender, "I think you're a bitch."

No shit.

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her head back against his matte wall, "We're not getting anywhere any faster if you keep giving me this Kurosa—"

"I think you're a _big fucking _bitch,"

Now we're getting somewhere.

"In fact, I believe you're even worse than my therapist. She's the devil, but _you_? You're the fucking spawn of fucking Satan himself. You piss me off, just by looking at me, everything you say and do, I honestly believe you say and do it _just _to spite me. I wasn't gonna give you this job, I was gonna follow directions for once. I was gonna give it to someone _older_, someone with a more mature attitude, more _respect_! But your little punk friend Hanataro begged me to give it to you when he kept telling me how deep in the shitter you were, and I felt bad, so I _did_—"

"Then, _why. Don't. You. Fire me?_" Rukia growled lowly, curling the upper right corner of her top lip. "_Because. You big mouth, twisted, sadistic little fucking_ _midget_," Ichigo bored holes into the base of Rukia's skull with his eyes. Before they were so dull, and now, they're filled with hatred. Fire burning across his darkening, _baneful _eyes. Rukia can only stare with the same amount of intensity, the same amount of hatred, as much as she can possibly pour out of herself and feel towards a single person, she had given her all to _him_. He slammed his palm against his wall, sure to put a dent in it, right beside her head. It scared her but she had done her best not to flinch, but stare harder with her eyes narrowing thinner and thinner at him as he leaned in.

"_I wanna fuck your brains out._"

Wait.

_What?_

She blinked, her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates, no not even. Probably hubcaps. She felt the obligation to object to what he'd said, she felt the need to shove him away and curse him for being the lecherous demon he was but for now, she would allow him to continue. "You're a crude bitch, and I hate the _fuck _out of you, but you don't know how much I want to shove my cock into the deepest parts of you. You have no idea do you? You have no idea what it does to me to see you bent over, and on your knees in that uniform—" He dragged his nails down the paint of his wall, leaving marks as he went, Rukia rasps softly in surprise to find his hand is suddenly getting closer to her face.

Her dark red _burning _face.

"Every damn day. Every _fucking _day I had to put up with that urge for me to just attack you where you stood, to throw you down and just do as I pleased with you, no matter how much you tried to stop me. Even when that annoying fucking voice of yours was always insulting me or telling me _I'm _doing something wrong. I've always wanted to hear that voice _screaming _for me. Screaming for me to fuck you till your legs give out, begging for me to keep making a mess of your tight body, just begging. Begging to make you cum. _Panting _and _m__oaning_."

_Why is he telling me this now? _Rukia feels her body taking the toll of his vulgar description of violent sex. With her. She's over heated, and her legs can barely keep her body up against the wall. It's hard enough to keep listening without saying anything, without slapping him or, hell. Without tugging out strands of his ugly orange hair while he takes her, right here against the wall. Because she just might—

No way. What is she thinking?

"For the longest I've been dying to know what it must feel like to wrap my hands around your thighs and just _wreck _you. The woman I hate. I want to fuck you till you can't walk straight for days, until your head's nothing but a big blurry mess. Until,"

He brushed the thumb of his other hand across the skin of Rukia's thigh through her thigh-high. She jerked viciously, sucking in a copious amount of air. _Oh fuck_, she choked down her tiny whines that were soon to come after she would catch her breath. _Why did I just do that in front of him? _Ichigo leaned in closer to her face, close enough so that the heat of her breath could be felt rolling off his skin, and the sounds of her tiny but audible whimpers were caught by his eardrums.

"_Until the sound of my voice is enough to make you wet your fucking panties for me__. Can you feel that, Kuchiki?_"

That's it.

She swung her arm around, balling her hand into a fist around a section Ichigo's shirt while he dug his lips into the side of her neck. Growling in the pit of his chest in indescribable pleasure once she starts delivering him those delicious little moans he's been dying to hear. They're so soft, and sensual, dragging out to the end into sharp gasps and she forms a small _O _with her beautiful pink lips to moan for him again and again. He traced his tongue along the curve of her shoulder, then her collar bone, indulging in this exquisite delicacy known only as Rukia Kuchiki.

"_Ichi—_" Rukia chimed in an extremely high pitch, shuddering violently under his power. She's about to do it, she's finally about to part from spitting his surname at him as if it were a curse, and resort to singing his first name to him in this lovely new tone she's taken tune to— "_Kurosaki!_"

Okay. Maybe not. It doesn't matter.

She's still moaning, so he's happy. He's fucking _ecstatic_. He pulls his mouth away from sampling her luscious skin, only to grab her uniform by the neck and tear it down the middle with savage force. She gasps, her pert breasts bounce inside their white lace bra cups which Ichigo eagerly yanks down as well to see what he's been waiting to feel since the first day he's laid eyes on this woman. Round and perky, just like he thought them to be. She was definitely a supple B-cup. He brought his head down to clamp his lips around the rosy puckered peak of her left breast while his hand kneaded and groped her lively on the right. "_Wait a minute—_" Rukia denounced noisily, tearing at his orange hair with her slender fingers, "_take your filthy mouth off of me! R—right now Kurosaki! I mean it!_"

There's the Rukia he oh so detested. Turning him on with her usual _bitch routine_.

Ichigo tore away from her breasts, taking one final look at them before he drops to his knees and brings his head down to a more _intimate _place. Before she has a moment to object, he's yanked her panties down to her ankles, prying the folds of her sopping wet pussy apart with his thumbs. _Assaulting _her with the excited movement of his hot, wet tongue. "_Ah—_" Rukia bucked forward, pressing her hands into his head and in between her legs. She's taking in huge gulps of air, and exerting _louder _and even more erotic sounding moans in exchange for the ones before when he had only simply been _touching _her.

Now he's wrapping his arms around the underside of her legs, pulling her up from the ground completely with his head buried in between her hips. Rukia writhed intensely, smashing her back against his wall as she's brought up high from the ground with her legs around his shoulders. His tongue has surpassed her entrance, tracing along her contracting inner walls teasingly with it's moist tip, Ichigo pulls it out to slip it along her pretty pink sex pedals.

This stupid bastard with his stupidly amazing talent to make her feel this fucking _fantastic_. She despised this man. Just as she's finally catching her breath, Ichigo bites down on her most sensitive of sensitive spots, the tiny pearl between his teeth erects immediately, sending rippling waves of chills _crashing _down Rukia's spine, "Oh fuck—"

She tightened her grip on his spiky locks, bucking her hips forward unto his mouth once more, "Oh_ fuck! __Ichigo!_" Rukia shrilled, to the top of her lungs. Her cry of ecstasy bouncing off his walls to hit his eardrums again and again, and one _more _time.

Rukia Kuchiki, has climaxed from the man she hates. And it felt absolutely _euphoric_.

Her body went boneless for the first time as Ichigo brought her down to her feet, she only crumbled to the ground. Panting, her beautiful chest lifting and dropping quickly. Her silky hair laid out on his floor in a complete mess with her bonnet lying off to the side, and her petite figure is trembling lightly. Lying here on his living room floor she looks more beautiful than he's ever seen her, and he's throbbing painfully beneath his trousers to get a taste of her with _another _muscle of his.

Ichigo traps her beneath him, straddling over her on his hands and knees as he reaches up to loosen his dark red necktie, "_Wait..._" Rukia rasped softly, "_I just...you can't..._"

"I'm not waiting," Ichigo replied hoarsely. He's waited long enough for this moment, and he's not letting it end here. He rids himself of the damned tie, undoing the buttons of his shirt one at a time. This process is taking too long, even for Rukia who's finally opened her eyes to witness and—

Holy shit.

Is _now _a bad time to just realize just how gorgeous Ichigo Kurosaki is up _this _close? She flattens her hand on the roughly texture skin of his right pectoral, smoothing over it to his left as he finished the process of unbuttoning his work shirt and throwing it to the ground beside the piano. Her hand takes a different approach, smoothing down the patch of Ichigo's finely chiseled stomach. And _god _was he ripped. He had muscles all the way down to the sex lines on his waist tracing a perfect V down into his trousers, and the neat thin trail of orange starting directly below his navel and disappearing into his trousers as well.

To hell with it. She just wanted the damn things off, but to Ichigo, taking his shirt off was too much time wasted already. He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants and thrusting the zipper downwards, good lord how big was this man? He wasn't even half way out of his pants and Rukia could already make out a good portion of his length. She _thought_.

She pressed the bottom of her foot to it through his boxer's, rubbing across it sideways with her silk stocking. "_What...the hell..._" Ichigo grit his teeth, grinding out hard groans of ecstasy, "_are you...doing_?"

"Hold on," Rukia finally spoke clearly through her soft panting, raising up on her hands, "this thing...just what the hell are you gonna do with it?"

"Are you an _idiot_?"

"Are _you_!?" She quickened her rubbing motion with the sole of her foot, pressing against his stiffening muscle upwards until she could clearly see the pink head of his cock peaking out of his boxers and nearly surpassing his bellybutton, "It's feels like it isn't even going to fit..._it's fucking huge..._"

"_Thank you,_" he grabbed Rukia by the ankle of her foot working so feverishly to piss him off, sliding her down across his floor and bringing her hips closer to his. Ichigo stuck his hand into the opening of his boxers, wrapping it around the base of his manhood to finally relieve himself of his building anxiety. As soon as it's unveiled, Rukia's eyes are wide once more. She's staring, gawking in awe at it, just by itself alone without him even putting it inside of her it's already at her navel...

"You're just," Ichigo rasped, prying her exquisite stems apart for him to gain the access he needs to take her fully, "really tiny..."

_You're just a fucking monster you stupid bastard. _"I alread told you...I'm not _tiny_...you prick." Rukia swallowed, falling back down to the ground with a soft thud and a sharp inhale, she closes her eyes and digs her nails into the carpet. Ichigo presses in slowly, separating her walls with the tip of his cock, and pulling back to dip in further, "_Sh—shit!_" Rukia cursed brazenly, and begins to scratch her nails across the floor. He grabs her by the hips, pulling her closely to him, sinking in deep to her insatiably tight body.

This is it. This is the explosively amazing feel Ichigo has been waiting for. The look on Rukia's face right now is to die for, biting on her index finger with her eyes half lidded. Her mind is heavy with fog and it shows from her lust riddled eyes. Ichigo looked down upon her, and for a moment there isn't a look of hatred between them.

There isn't a jolt of disgust that they're this close to each other face to face, body to body. He wants to see more of _this _Rukia. He pulls back with his hips, freeing about an inch of himself from her tightening core which is greedily rubbing against his hardening cock the more he moves with its velvety muscles. He himself has to part his lips to intake a bit of air before he suffocates, this feels way too god damn good. "_Rukia..._" He sputtered, quickening his pace with eager gusto. Rukia threw her head back against the ground, the feel of him was just too intoxicating for her to take it any longer and expect to keep her sanity. She released a low wail of lust, followed by several sharp rasps for air, "_Oh god..._"

He lifts himself higher, bringing her hips up off the ground so her body is bent in such a way that she's able to see the area in which they met intimately. She can see as he's grabbing hold of her thighs way too tight, squeezing the color out of them even. She can see how his hips move up and his cock pulls out of her, bringing her clinging pussy up with it, and then jamming itself back in, all the way to the base. Until she's full, and she can feel the tip of him prying open the entrance of her womb eagerly.

_I'm having sex...with this impudent pig on his apartment floor._

"_Ah! Ah! I—Ichi...you're being too rough! You idiot!_" Rukia snapped raggidly at him, shielding her mouth with the palm of her hand to stifle her trembling voice. Right now she's experiencing the most extraordinary sensation of rug burn in her life, and she doesn't even _want _to get up. The rug beneath them is folding, trying to escape their lust, and Ichigo pushes Rukia's flexibility to it's limit. He presses her legs down further until her ankles have reached up so high they're beside her ears, _this _way he can stare directly down at her. He can watch every single change in that pretty little face of hers while he's fucking her senseless from down below.

"_But Rukia,_" Ichigo grunts, bucking his hips savagely into her once more. Just to see her part her lips and shrill to the top of her lungs. Just to see her arch her back, and clamp her hand down over her mouth _harder_, to try to defy him more though she's given him everything that he could possibly want. "_Your pussy is throbbing...it's throbbing so bad, I think it wants to cum am I right? So you must feel good this way. Can you see—_" He took her by a fistful of her messy raven hair, pulling her head up from the ground so she is able to see their animalistic sex once again, "—_how greedily your pussy is clinging around my cock?_"

Damn him. Damn it all. She clings eagerly to his wrists while he's holding her legs down as high as they are, "_Y—you better not...do it inside...I...I mean it!_" Her commands were hard to be taken seriously when she's shaking so hard. When her face is so red, but she looks so angry at the same time, and yet she's moaning like a whore while she takes Ichigo's cock like a pro. "_Don't flatter yourself Kuchiki,_" Ichigo grinned wolfishly, "_I'm not even close to being done with you yet._"

_This cocky, belligerent bastard!_

"_Hah!_" Rukia jerked and writhed tremendously on the hardwood floor, putting an arch in her back to lift her entire body up but leave her head pushing down on it below. She drags her nails across Ichigo's heated flesh, piercing him with their sharp tips. Drawing blood from his veins as he's constantly sawing in and out of her sex with his violently crushing hips, her body heaves heavily for breath, "_I'm cu...!_"

Her muscles, all of them, tense immediately. Intensifying Ichigo's burning desire to make sure he _fucks her brains out _till she can't walk straight, though he can barely hold on to a breath himself as she's twisting her hips around his cock. Trying to get away from him. He grabs her by her waist, slamming her back down until her inner thighs connected with his waistline and stayed there, and his eyes roll back to his head in an indescribable mixture of euphoria and pain as she's digging his nails into him. He parts his lips to inhale— which he does just barely— and emits a low pitched and loud howl of felicity with his head tilted up to his ceiling.

This is it. Rukia widens her lips to intake the amount of air she needs to ensure her survival as she rides the waves of her orgasm, combatively crashing into her body from all angles. She inhales and exhales with vigor, sharp gasps in which Ichigo can hear and relish in the fact that he's pleasuring her _this _much. _I'm so close..._Rukia bit down on her lip until it was cold. Until it was bloodless.

Ichigo unsheathed himself, completely from her body. She gasped in appall, having to cover her mouth with her hands to keep from whining. She was so cute. "_W...why'd you...why'd you s—stop...?_"

"_Because_," he said to her in a softer tone, "_I want to do something else to hear those cute moans of yours better_."

"_Don't call me cute you disgusting bastard._"

Typical Kuchiki. He lifted her up from the ground with his arms under her legs and around her back, carrying her carefully across the living room to his couch to set her down easy. On her knees Rukia grasped the backboard of his couch, resting her head on it's edge with her hips raised as high as they would go with one of her legs up bent on the couch and the other with her foot down on the ground. She stared back at Ichigo, not with spiteful eyes but ones of lust, waiting. Fuck she looked amazing.

He stroked himself from his base to his tip teasingly behind her, rubbing his shaft along the silk of her leggings and spreading her her pussy apart once more with his thumbs to prod against her as deep as he could go— "_You have to say my name first_."

"Ichigo," she whined miserably. He was taking way to long to ravish her. "No," he crowed with a hard spank to her ass. She cried out in agony, soothing down into soft trembles and pants of excitement. Her pussy was throbbing so hard against the shaft of his cock he would almost melt against her heat, "_Say it like you have been_. _Like you did the first time around._"

"_Kurosaki..._"

"_Kurosaki_—? _Is that really all?_"

"_Master_," Rukia cried, finally at her limit, "_Master Kurosaki!_ _Please help yourself..to ravishing my pussy with your big hard cock!_"

Oh fuck. Ichigo's chest was caving in on itself tenfold now, she _had _to have had that planned somehow...look at her! She's _smiling _at him! She really is. Rukia is grinning wolfishly, shaking her hips side to side as if to say, "_I've got you now..._" Bitch. He'll show her who's got _who_. Screw slipping in slowly to get a taste of what she's got, he's taking her whole in one swoop of his hips, pulling her back down on him by her hips. Watching her head jerk back and her back arch in pleasure from him penetrating _all _the way up to her womb in a single thrust.

She tightens around him, tremendously hard. This bitch is always trying to fight him no matter what, trying to keep him from going as fast as he wants to, from fucking her as hard as he needs to to get off after all these weeks of waiting. _Craving_.

Not this time.

Ichigo pulls Rukia up by her hair, holding her body close his with her back against her chest while his hand is caressing the tight skin of her stomach, sliding up to knead her soft breast. He lifts her right leg up from the ground to allow himself leeway while he's absolutely _crushing _into her now with a fury. Gasping. Moaning louder than he's ever moaned in his entire life. Rukia shudders violently from her head down to her trembling legs, falling forward, back to placing her head on the cushion seat on the couch while she stands on the ground and her lower body is being _handled _by Ichigo.

"I can't—keep! I'm cumming! _I'm cumming!_" She's climaxing again, this time more violently than the first and her body takes a heavy toll, almost instantly dropping down to the couch. He comes down with her, there's no way in hell he's escaping this paradise he's in. Rukia digs her nails into the arm of Ichigo's couch as he ravishes her vigorously, sideways on the furniture's cushions. He holds her leg up over his shoulder, pushing her other leg apart while he watches as his cock pulls out from her pussy just to greedily be shoved back in. She's going crazy, he can see it in her eyes, her face is completely changed now into an erotic display of pure desire.

She looks more like a porn star than an actual person, right here in his apartment. "_Fuck...fuck!_" Ichigo grunted animalistically, turning Rukia completely over on her back and pressing her legs back by her thighs as he straddles over her with vicious thrusting motions. Rukia keeps both her arms high, back above her head to hold the arm of the couch so that she has something other than his flesh to dig her nails into while she's enjoying every second of her pussy being stuffed full with him like wild, and now that he's throbbing, he's gotten bigger. _Harder _inside of her. She can barely control the sounds coming out of her mouth now.

"Do it...inside me! Do it! Pour all of your cum inside of me Master! I wanna feel you coat the inside of my pussy with your thick sticky semen!" Rukia unconsciously pleading for such a thing is driving Ichigo completely ballistic, "You said you didn't want me to—"

"_Please_..." Rukia trembled, extending her arms out in front of her. He looks down at her, does she want to embrace him? By the looks of the way she's reaching out for him it's as if she's..._trying _to hug him. Why now? Why now of all times to do something like that? Ichigo swallowed, running his thumb across her silky trembling bottom lip, until she takes it into her mouth and sucks him eagerly. That's all it takes for him to give in to his desires.

He crushes his body down on top of hers, snaking his muscular arms around her slender frame while she wraps hers around his neck. He's biting on her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her flesh until he draws blood, shocking her senses with a new sensation of pain _and _pleasure simultaneously happening at once. He's at his limit. Growling bestially into her flesh, and releasing his heavy flow of ejaculate straight up into Rukia's locking pussy.

She gasps sharply, releasing another breathless shrill of ecstasy before dropping her head back on the cushion of his couch. _He came inside me._

_Ichigo came inside of me._

Ichigo lifted his head up from her shoulder, staring dreamily into those _glistening eyes_. Oh how he missed them. How he missed _her_. "_Ichigo..._" She called him by his first name, which was a rarity. He smiled, "Y...yeah?"

"You're an..._idiot_."

He scowled at her. Again. God, he was in such a good mood—

Rukia smiled at him, biting down on his bottom lip and tugging on it between his teeth. He growled lowly, stroking the skin on her back and pulling her up to straddle his waist, she rasped heavily, "Are you—!?"

He's hard again. Rock solid in fact, still inside of her. After he just came _that much_? What was this man? Some kind of sex demon? Ichigo grinned wolfishly, pushing Rukia down further on the base of his cock with her hips as he lies back against his couch pillows and her body trembles. Moaning loudly.

"Sorry," he said, running his hand up and down the center of her stomach, then down to her slit to press on her plump clit as it erected immediately to his touch, "but you're not leaving me tonight..."

***NOTE: THE CHAPTER YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, OKAY YAS. I HAVE TOOSDNKJGNKDF. Okay. I was way too excited to write this. _Maybe _I went a little too overboard...**

**sad thing is. I haven't even scratched the surface of my perversion with these two.**

**OKAY, well I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter! Because I have, yes omguh. And remember to leave reviews!**

**Review review review~**


	10. Chapter 9

Ichigo lamented lowly, half asleep with the side of his face buried into his pillow drenched in sweat, belly down on his mattress. He stretches his arms far off to his sides, patting down on the warm silky skin of the woman beside him. He unconsciously rolled his eyes.

_Damn. Another one? I couldn't have done it again..._

He crows in distress, rolling on his back and lifting up to sitting position to turn and look at the woman, lying in his bed. His eyes slightly widen in befuddlement.

It's Rukia. Inhaling and exhaling soundly with the gentle lifting and falling of her chest. Her dark silk hair is spread out over the pillow she slept on while her arms are crossed underneath it.

That's right.

How could he forget what happened last night? After all, his body was still sore, throbbing as if he'd woken up after working out profusely at the gym, which he does on some occasions. He brushed the palm of his hand back over his face and up to his forehead, shutting his eyelids over hazy hues.

"Yoruichi's going to kill me."

He could never hide anything from her. Maybe the best thing to do was to miss a few visits, she'll understand.

Although he is her greatest income of money. That's all she probably cares about anyway. He shifted his attention over to his digital alarm clock;

2:40 PM.

"Oh my go—" he clasped his hand over his mouth to keep from exerting the most feminine sound he would ever make in his life. He overslept, he _way _overslept, into the PM. And Rukia, she's _still _sleeping.

_Rukia's still..._

A breeze of relaxation slips over his body once he looks down to her tranquil face. She isn't scowling at him, or giving him that god awful from he hates seeing— she looks...peaceful. The most peaceful he's ever seen her, and it's...

Cute. _What the hell? _Ichigo wiped that idea clear from his mind. Rukia Kuchiki, _cute_? Sure he said it yesterday, but only to taunt her. But now she looks..._adorab_— "Ugh." He stretched an arm out across his nightstand to retrieve his phone, checking for missed alerts, and definitely finding them. All missed calls. All from contact, _Uryuu Ishida_. Placing his feet on the carpet, he rises from his bed to clothe himself from the waist down with a pair of red boxers, taking himself and his phone into the kitchen. Pressing it to his cheek once he hears the dial tone ring steadily—

"_Kurosaki_!"

He jerked his head a bit, "Yes, Ishida?"

"_I called you a million times—_" Ichigo rolled his eyes, "_where were you? Are you okay?_" He glanced back to the door of his bedroom, sighing softly and running his hand through his hair, "I'm fine."

"_I need you to come in for a moment. It won't take long. There's a procedure that I'm not quite sure—_"

"I'll be there as soon as possible," he hung up the phone, and placed it face down on his counter. The last thing he wanted to hear after just waking up was a wordy explanation from Uryuu, or any noise for that matter. With a low yawn, he returns to his bedroom, pushing the door open gradually as he came in, looking at his bed to find Rukia's gone. He narrows his eyes in confusion, entering more to check his bathroom, around the other side of the bed, even underneath it.

Gone.

"What the...hell?" Ichigo mumbled, wrapping his hand around his shoulder. He thought _he _had a skill of slipping away after one night stands without being caught in the process but. This was ridiculous. His bedroom door creeks softly, and he turns from the foot of his bed to see it pushing open.

It's Rukia. Standing in her bra and panties, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her left hand while her right holds her phone and her hair is a mess.

She still looks cute to him for some reason.

She sighed, setting the phone down to his dresser, rubbing her arm in the awkward silence. As does Ichigo. "That was my roommate."

"Oh yeah?" He finally said, relieved she was the one to crack the silence before he wound up saying something stupid. Rukia rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him, "I told her I had spent the night, and I'll be back soon."

"What...what else did you tell her?"

Silence. Rukia's cheeks began to glow a rosy pink tone that she covered with her hands, "Not that. You idiot." Not that he'd thought she would. He just wanted to see her react to his question, and he's glad he asked it. "Yeah...well...I have to go into work pretty soon. I got called in on short notice."

"I'll be gone before you get home."

"That's not what I asked—" Ichigo stammered at the end of his _half a_ statement. "I mean. Don't rush yourself to go...so soon. I mean..." More silence. Fuck this is awkward for the both of them. He exhaled in defeat, glancing up from his feet to Rukia. And upon closer examination he notices— she's trembling on her own two legs. _Is she crying? No... _She's biting her lip as if she's anxious, curling her toes and fingers in and out. Glancing at Ichigo every so often from the corner of her eye, and whenever she would, he cheeks would glow brighter. "Embarrassed?" Ichigo snickered lightly. Rukia scoffed, "Why would I be embarrassed? It's not like...this means anything."

"Yeah. Of course it doesn't," Ichigo respired lightly. She fidgeted, swallowing hard and nervously, silent as she kept her gaze controlled to the fibers of his carpet. Ichigo pried for things to say, questions to ask even, standing with his hand to the back of his neck while he looked down at his feet.

Rukia shoved herself into musculature of Ichigo's masculine form, and his body is flung backwards onto his mattress with a high bounce and a loud thud with her figure compacted against him. He writhed along the sheets of his bed, fighting with her for control as she runs her palm across the width of his chest and up to his head to tug on his hair violently. Ichigo dragged his nails down the skin on her silky back, slapping down on her ass until it radiated a bright hot pink and he grips down on her thighs to pry them apart. Now she's grinding, straddling his waist in nothing but her panties, their movements are rapid and wild with undiluted desire. Rukia moaned heavily, smothering her lips down into the curve of Ichigo's shoulder to muffle her voice.

He was tired of that.

He flipped her over on her back, crushing his lips against hers forcefully, trapping her moans inside of the confines of his own mouth. Rukia jerked away, staring as if she were horrified of him. Or what he _did _to be exact. He rolled his eyes, "What?"

"You—" Rukia paused, pressing her palms against the bulk of Ichigo's chest, "you _kissed _me." His head rose and his lips parted to speak, but Rukia shoved her hand around his lips, sealing them shut. "If you tell, _anyone_. About this..." Ichigo peeled her hand away, meeting her eyes with a smug sneer, "As if I'd tell anyone that I had done something like this with _you_."

"Likewise."

Swinging her arm around to grasp a tight hard handful of Ichigo's saturated strands to jerk him closer, pressing on to him with her glorious mounds. Ichigo gripped her petite frame by the curves of her sides, forcing her to lie back down to his mattress with the weight of his own body. She shoved at his chest, keeping a light grip around the thickness of his neck and throat as she looked him _piercingly _through the eyes, "Don't get so cocky either! I'm not doing this _because_ it's with _you_—"

"_Shut the fuck up,_" He growled barbarically into the shell of her ear as he jams his right hand into her panties, slicking his elongated digits between the folds of her sex abruptly. Rukia quaked lightly, loosening her hold around his throat and the grin in his voice resumes. His quickening fingers pump feverishly into her tightening core, wiggling once they're in the deepest, brushing and smoothing against her velvety inner walls, "You talk too much. Just moan for me."

She choked on her own breath, following the gentle rhythm of his fingers with the grinding of her hips, lying her head back against his pillow. His movements occur more smoothly as he grazes his hand over the tightness of her abdomen, gently heaving with her breath, and kneading the firmness of her smooth supple breast beneath her bra cup. "_S—stop...wait..._" Rukia trembled, grasping his wrist weakly with her shaking hand. Ichigo absolutely loved getting her to this point, the point where she was less hostile and more submissive to him. The point where she would no longer curse him, even if it's just for a little while. "_You have to go...to work soon...and Rangiku is waiting for me...so..._" She blushed deeply.

It seemed like the only way he could ever get anything _cute _out of this woman was when he was violating her.

"_If you wanted me inside you sooner...that's all you had to say,_" he purred teasingly into her ear, biting down on her sensitive cartilage. She scowled intensely at him, but it had no effect being doused with the expression of her lust once more. Ichigo swung his leg over her, straddling over her panting body on his hands and knees, ridding his fingers of Rukia's arousal fluids with his lustful tongue before her eyes. She took the liberty of disposing her panties for him, shoving them down to her ankles and kicking them off to the foot of the bed, he grinned in approval.

Lowering himself again, pressing his lips against hers and separating them with his tongue. She could taste herself on them, battling with the hot muscle for dominance over her mouth— a battle she was slowly _losing_. _Damn_. Ichigo slipped into her core easily with the length of his stiff manhood, stopping once she's covered him halfway. Pulling out, and plunging back in _slowly _until she met the base of him. Faster and faster, his movements pick up momentum until he's grinding rhythmically into her extraordinary arousal, slowing only slightly to savor the feel.

Sex feels so much better when it's wrong, when it's with someone he can fuck and have an undoubted feeling of hatred for later. Is that weird? Rukia's wails of lust hit the back of Ichigo's throat as their lips stayed locked together with her hands tugging and pulling on his hair, and her nails digging in his scalp. She grappled her legs around his grinding hips, prying her lips apart from his to intake a deep breath of air _finally_. Tilting her head as far back as it would go with her eyes closed and an arch of solace in her back which Ichigo held so tenderly.

"_Ichigo_," She rasped softly, pressing her breasts against his body, dragging her nails down the muscle of his back. He nearly lost himself hearing the sound of his name escape her ductile lips so wispily, as if she's gratifying him with the saying of his own name— not the surname which she curses him by, but his first. The first time he's heard all three syllables roll from her sweet tongue and into his ears, he rejoices. Grinning, lifting himself higher on his palms gripping the top of his headboard, "_What's my name?_"

"_Ichi—go!_" Rukia gasped, jerking her legs up higher with her knees bent and trembling at Ichigo's sides. The way his body grinds downward is absolutely irresistible for her _not _to touch. The rhythm in which his body rolls, his washboard stomach, his sensual expression, his waist slowly pressing into hers with each thrust and the arch created in his back each time he takes a dive deeper into her pussy. Everything about this man is absolutely insatiable, absolutely _sinful_. She presses down on his broad pectorals, sliding along his body until she's feeling the stretching and contractions of the muscles in his abdomen as he grinds. She tilts her head up, panting gently against his lips as he brings his head down, "_Say it again_. _What's my name?_"

Rukia pressed her head into his pillow until her neck ached, inhaling softly and whispering, "_Ichigo_."

"_Louder_."

"_Ichigo!_" She cried. He shoved his lips against hers again, melting against their soft moist feel. The very same sweet lips that sing his name so melodically to the sound of her angelic moans. He would almost regret having to leave her, because there was the possibility she wouldn't come back to him later. Ichigo broke their kiss with a soft groan, crushing into her from below once more while he held her leg up with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee. She whimpered sharply, constricting around him, "_Rukia...I'm close...I'm so close._"

"_Pull out,_" Rukia responded shakily. She almost found herself whining when he obeyed, slipping out of her tight warm sleeve excruciatingly slow. He held himself at the base, stroking all the way to the tip with his tugging gripping motion over and over above her stomach. Rukia pushed up from his bed, forcing him on his back with her hands on his chest, "_What are you—?_" Ichigo swallowed hard at the sight of her face approaching, as if she were going to kiss him. She kissed against his neck, against his chest and stomach, sliding her body as well as her hands all the way down the trail of his torso until she met his waist and she gripped his member lightly. Still, Ichigo nearly choked when she touched him, even his cock jumped with excitement in her delicate hold. Throbbing painfully.

Rukia squeezed him tightly at his base with her grasp, and he winced in slight pain. She pressed her fingertip against the tip of him, against the tiny bead of sticky white fluid rolling down his shiny head, "You're not allowed to cum yet. Not until I've had my fun."

_Damn. What happened to getting to work soon, and going to see your roommate_? He imagined what his face looked like, he probably looked pathetic considering how _badly _he wants to ejaculate all over her pretty little face but she won't let him. Sadistic little bitch. Rukia wrapped her warm wet lips around the tip of his cock, sucking him down hungrily until she met with her own hand at the bottom wrapped around him. The feel of her velvet throat wrapped around him so tightly as enough to make turn his knees into gelatin, and his stomach tightened tremendously. Where the hell had she learned something like that? And more importantly—

Where is this woman's _gag reflex_?

She brought her head up to his tip once more, thrusting it back down until his entire length disappeared in her mouth. Her eyes are rolled up to look at Ichigo while he's lying on his back and looking down at her with an expression of desperation. He almost looks..._cute_. She can't help but giggle, unsheathing him from the suction of her throat until he flung out of her mouth completely on an entirely different level of erect. Just looking at him now, she can't believe how massive he appears to be in this state, even the slightest touch from her finger sends him reeling back. Throbbing even harder, "Some of it is coming out..." she smiled gently, running her tongue across the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock to lap up his sticky fluid. Ichigo bellowed loudly, tearing into the fabric of his blanket with his nails, "Are you holding back from me? _Master_?"

She's toying with him so fucking hard, he's going to absolutely lose his mind at any given moment. Still, he doesn't give her the pleasure of a response. She smirked menacingly, lifting up more from his bed until she straddled over his waist on her knees, "_I'll let you cum in a minute. But for now..._" _Oh God_. Ichigo stared holes through her as she handled his cock with those delicate little hands, positioning him below her so that she'd prod his tip against her slippery pussy. It's going in, he's almost...Rukia leaned back and his cock comes slipping out and against her entrance teasingly. He moaned lowly, curling his fingers in suspense. "_Oops. It slipped,_" she laughed, flicking her tongue out at him. He's already cumming, with a sticky strand of slightly translucent fluid oozing from the tip and adhering to his own waist.

Again she teases him, pressing her finger down to cover his tip once more, "You're showing me such a lewd side of you today, Master. It almost makes me want to keep playing with you...maybe I should just leave _now_?"

"_Fuck_—" Ichigo inhaled, "_no_."

"You're right," Rukia lowered her hips down to him until he was buried head deep inside of her, rotating her hips while she leaned back with her hands against his knees, "I could never...do that. Master's cock just feels too incredible," she whimpered. Her own voice getting higher and higher with her escalating arousal. "And his _cum_..."

Christ, if she pulls away now he's going to go berserk. Rukia lifts herself up, leaning forward to grip Ichigo's shoulders as she slammed her body back down to him. Throwing her head back in indescribable bliss, Ichigo manages to hit her deepest parts in a single plunge. He cried out loudly for the first time, grasping tight hold of Rukia's hips while he rose his to compact tightly against her. He explodes inside of her, leaving her pussy overflowing with his thick hot semen, so much so her small body is unable to contain it.

Rukia trembled, violently, shrilling out once more until she collapses on his chest from exhaustion with her body filled to it's limit, and he's _still _cumming inside. He rasped aggressively, heaving so much to catch his breath that even Rukia's body rose as it lied atop his chest, she stretched to kiss against the bottom of his chin. He's smiling like an idiot, and he knows it, "_I have to go...to work...you damn nympho._"

She rolled her eyes, grinning gently. Lifting higher to whisper into the shell of his ear in a low seductive tone, "_If you come home early, I'll give you a reward for working so hard—_"_  
_

Ichigo stuttered, parting his lips to speak until she continued. "_Or maybe I'll just play with you more. Master._"_  
_

Why did that both arouse him and scare him at the same time?

-xx-

He's sitting at his desk, in the most jovial of moods. His hot mug of coffee is placed to the far end as opposed to a bottle of water he keeps beside his wrist as he reads the screen of his computer. He's smiling, and he can tell, though he doesn't entirely understand why...maybe it's because he's in a damn good mood?

Or maybe it's because Uryuu looks dumb as hell with the way he's staring at him. As if he's someone entirely different, as if he's a stranger sitting behind Ichigo's desk. He blinks. "Kurosaki?"

"Yes, Uryuu?"

Uryuu. He nearly drops to the floor like a dead fly when Ichigo refers to him by his first name, which rarely— no. That _never _happens. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you sick?"

"No."

"Are you high?"

Ichigo shifted his stare away from his monitor and up at Uryuu, "Maybe."

"What kind of drugs has your pharmacist got you on?"

_A dose of Rukia Kuchiki every day_. _Or two. _He grinned inwardly, screwing the cap off his bottled water with a shrug, "I haven't been taking them actually. I feel a lot better." Uryuu drew silent, watching as Ichigo swallowed down copious amounts of the cooled beverage with narrowed eyes, "How's your maid?"

He choked. Got him. Ichigo swallowed hard, screwing the cap back on the bottle and setting it down on his computer desk, "Kuchiki's fine."

"Is she _just_, '_fine'_?"

He's hesitating, why didn't he realize it sooner? Everybody's told him, given him hints, pointed out to him directly that he was a _terrible _liar. If there was an award for the world's worst liar Ichigo Kurosaki would be handed first place with medals, trophies, and a spot on some talk show so he can splurge about how godforsakenly awful he truly is. "Hell if I know," he mumbled, pressing the flap of skin between his thumb and index finger against his lips nervously, keeping his eyes glued to his screen. "She's just...Kuchiki. If you wanna know how she's doing, you ask her yourself."

"I think I will."

Ichigo froze, switching his attention full on to Uryuu. He raised an inquisitive cobalt brow, smirking tauntingly. He's caught him again. "I'm sure she won't mind if I drop by."

"Yeah, but. _I'll _mind. It's my apartment—"

"But I always come over. Why is it any different now that you've got a new maid?"

Silence. Ichigo bit down on his own flesh anxiously, "_I guess, but..._I'm sure she's gone by now. I told her she could leave early—"

"Then I'll stop by to meet her tomorrow— what is it? _Thursday?_ That should be fine, right?" Uryuu pressed harder down on Ichigo's resistance until he finally snapped, twitching, _gnawing_. "_Whatever_."

"Good," he smiled, patting Ichigo on the back, "can't wait to meet the girl! She seems like loads and loads of fun..."

Bastard. He knows exactly what he's doing? Ichigo rolled his eyes to the back of his skull, burying his face in the palms of his hands.

_Why?_

_Why does this always happen to me_?

-xx-

Rukia sighed heavily, walking into the warmth of Rangiku's welcoming apartment with her shoes in hand. She tosses the keys on the table, throws her shoes to the other side of the room and slumps as she drags her feet along the carpet in their silk socks. Her newly re-tailored maid's uniform fitting snugly to her figure. Everything was peaceful, which was great.

She needed the quiet. She needed the—

"_There _you are!" Rangiku cried, flipping around the corner of the wall to stare at Rukia. She falls to her knees, then face first in the bean bag seat with an aspirated groan. "I was so worried about you! You could've called— I thought something terrible happened when you didn't come home yesterday—"

_She's still talking?_

"I called Renji, I called Momo— everybody! I even went through all the trouble of printing out these cute little flyers of you to pass out to the public! If your boss is overworking you _this much _all because you had a few sick days, then you need to quit! Better yet! I'll go talk to him face-to-face and give the bastard a piece of my mind!"

"Rangiku," Rukia groused, sitting up from the bean bag, "he didn't overwork me. He insisted I come home, but I stayed so I wouldn't have to make up the—"

She stopped, squinting her eyes thinly, "You printed out posters of me?" Rangiku nodded her head wildly, running back to her room and returning with a hand full of papers. Dropping them on the ground beside Rukia, she lifted one into her hand to study it with eyes full of disbelief.

This girl actually did it.

She made "missing person" posters of Rukia with some god awful photo that was taken while she had a mouthful of— whatever she was eating at that restaurant. Rukia dropped the paper to the ground, rolling her eyes in slight irritation, "_Anyway..._"

"God, you look exhausted! Here, you can sleep in my bed, I'm sure the guest room mattress is hard anyway."

"Rangiku sto—" Rukia squealed as she's pulled to her feet, stumbling. She caught herself halfway between a fall, wincing in pain as she brings her legs together. "Did you hurt yourself!? Did you sprain your ankle!?"

"I'm fine."

"But..." she watches as Rukia _limps _off into the hallway, "you're walking funny." Silence. She blushes madly, cupping her hand over her warm cheek, refusing to turn and look Rangiku in the eyes, "I just...I hit my foot on something!"

It was a good thing she hadn't been looking Rangiku in the face, or else she would've been done for, caught in a lie. Like Ichigo, she was bad at it, just barely making a scratch on the surface of a _satisfactory_ lie. Rangiku sighed, crossing her arms beneath her glorious mounds of flesh with a look of semi-pity and suspicion. "I just need to lie down...I'll feel better after I sleep a little."

"Where did you sleep while you were at his apartment?" More silence. Her face burned until it hurt to touch it any longer and she sunk her head into her shoulders. "Rukia?"

"Good night, Rangiku!" Rukia rushed the rest of the way down the hall, slamming the door behind her as she flung herself into her room. She left the blonde pouting, raising her brow in wonder. Dammit.

_Why did I wind up with the nosiest friend?_

_Why me?_

She whined softly, sliding down the back of her bedroom door until she sat upon the carpet, coming to it with a flinch. Her bottom, everything about her lower body ached horribly. Thanks to an orange headed_ nemesis _of hers._  
_

Still. It felt good while it lasted.

"What am I_...thinking_?" Rukia groaned, lowering her head into the palms of her hands and sliding them downward. She can't get that mental image out of her head. Him hanging over her, sweating, panting. _Moaning_. _Kissing_ her—

She brushes the tips of her fingers over her bottom lip gently. Kissing. It couldn't have meant anything...right? It was only an act of lust. There's no way she could—

Or he..._dammit_.

"I hate that...idiot," she sighed finally, resting her head back on her door and closing her eyelids over tired irises of amethyst. _Maybe I shouldn't have gotten carried away like that today..._

_Maybe._

__***NOTE: Sorry this was kinda short ;-; I've been on a sick writers block lately because my allergies. Stupid pollen. Oh well, I'm still gonna keep writing as well as I can even though my brain is..._blegh_.**

**Hope you liked this chapter! You can tell that this is the start of a 'relationship' between Ichigo and Rukia that could lead to many _many _things...suspense suspense. Excited? Good. 8D**

**Thanks to all my readers. As always, you guys are awesome. And I love reading your reviews.**

**So review, review, review!**


	11. Chapter 10

This is awkward. In fact, this is _beyond _awkward. Ichigo believes that awkward was left behind miles ago, and now they've crossed into an entirely different territory of—

_Awkward_?

Uryuu and Rukia are poking fun at each other in his presence, if Rukia could do such a thing. Maybe it was an act? Or maybe, the two had more in common than he thought.

Good lord.

Rukia glanced over to Ichigo, tense, sinking almost an entire foot deep into the cushion of his couch, as if he were trying to escape without moving. It humored her, "You've been awfully quite this entire time,_ Master Kurosaki_." She purred his formal name sinfully, right in front of Ishida. Ichigo twitched, he wanted to choke her, "I'm fine."

"Yeah," Uryuu concurred, approaching Ichigo slowly— _Oh god he's going to notice_. He crossed his legs formally on his couch, turning his head to avert Uryuu's stare, "You _have _been pretty quite. What's the matter with you?"

"I'm fine." Ichigo mumbled again. Rukia stretched her arm over his head, handing Uryuu a clear glass full of whiskey as he had requested only moment ago. She bent over, putting her face beside Ichigo's, "Are you _sure_? I could get you a glass of water if you like." Uryuu hadn't noticed, but as soon as Ichigo glanced over, she smirked sinisterly in his face. That little...

He growled lowly, snapping at her with his teeth and rolling his eyes back to face Uryuu who's staring at him. Oh sure, he noticed _that_, "You gotta work on that temper of yours Kurosaki! Or else, Ms. Kuchiki here might just up and kill you with her extensive knowledge on the human nervous system."

_The human what_? Ichigo turned back over to look at Rukia, baffled. She's standing behind the couch looking oh so innocently up at his ceiling with her hands clasped together in front of her legs, "Oh. I took an anatomy course or two. I wouldn't say my knowledge is _extensive_ but..." She shot her gaze down at Ichigo, "I can pinpoint all 385 pressure points on the human body, and use them to my advantage."

Holy shit. That's scary.

"Good for you. Maybe when you're done with school, I'll give you a job in my hospital." Actually. That didn't sound like too bad of an idea to him. Seeing Rukia everyday in the nurse's uniform, maybe he would _manipulate _hers into being a size too small for her actual figure. He could make her his assistant, or _have a word _with her every once in a while in his office. He raised a brow at the idea, at her, and she rolled her eyes, "In your dreams."

"I've been meaning to ask that question myself, this is the last week for Summer courses right? After Friday, you're home free," Uryuu took a sip from his glass, setting it down on the coffee table in the center of the living room. Rukia nodded, Ichigo's eyes widened. With her Summer course over, that would mean—

She would be in his apartment more, every weekday in fact. No more classes, no more study excuses. His body tingled in excitement just thinking about it. "But of course, if you start working in the hospital, there's always the Hanatarou hurdle you'd have to jump everyday," as if Uryuu were reading his mind, he crushed his dream. Dead. Rukia squared her shoulders tensely at the name, almost twisting her entire expression into one of horror. _The Hanatarou hurdle_, that's what they would call him from now on, "I. Um. I don't really think...it would be good for me to work around...him."

"Neither do I," Ichigo blurted semi-unconsciously. There was no way he was going to have Rukia around some little brat who swears she's the love of his life—

Is he being protective? Over _Rukia_? He rolled his eyes back, leaning his head into the curve of his right shoulder. _What have I done? _"I don't want to hear the kid's mouth...going on about...the _love of his life _working in the same place as he does."

"Wait," Rukia paused, "_what_?"

"I can see it now. He'd probably thank you nonstop, Kurosaki."

"Like I said," Ichigo scoffed, "I _don't _want to hear it."

"He called me the love of his life?"

"All she would do is distract him really," Uryuu proceeded to speak as if Rukia weren't there. The two men carried on in conversation, leaving her flustered until she rounded the couch and slammed her hand on the glass top coffee table, quaking the glass and items upon it. They drew silent, staring, "Yes, Kuchiki?"

Her stare could bore holes through mounted steel, god she was scary when she wanted to be. Staring silently at the both of them with a compelling scowl, "_Nothing. Master_."

For some reason, that name hadn't seemed as enticing as it would've been if she _weren't _plotting his death.

Uryuu shot his gaze to Ichigo, then back to Rukia, studying the both of their expressions carefully, "Are you two...getting _along _well?" Ichigo scoffed turning a cold shoulder to her, propping his chin up in the palm of his left hand. Rukia turned away with her arms hatched across her chest and her nose in the air and they both spoke in monotone unison—

"_Just fine_."

Right.

Yuzu and Karin weren't the only ones that had occasionally done that, it seemed.

"Well. Orihime is probably on her way home, I should go. You know how a woman can get when she's pregnant," He announced the finishing part of his statement with pride, draping his work jacket over his left forearm. Standing tall with his back fully erect and his nose slightly upward, Rukia turned in engrossment to face him, "You have a wife? And she's pregnant?" He nodded, patting Ichigo gently on the shoulder, "Yep. She Ichigo and I have been friends for years! He knows her well, which is why he _probably _knows that mood swings in the mix with her natural personality are...probably not the greatest thing."

Ichigo snorted. He could see Inoue now, scarfing down even more of her unusual delectables, plus some. Watching Uryuu's every move, moaning and sobbing over the slightest thing when the littlest emotion of hers is pushed to it's limit— he looked to Uryuu with a smug grin, watching as he turned to head to the front door. "I'll see you some other time, Ms. Kuchiki, it was a pleasure meeting you. Kurosaki. You stay out of trouble. I wouldn't want to see _you _as a patient in your own hospital..."

Ha ha ha.

The door finally closes, leaving both Ichigo and Rukia in the silence of their company. Rukia spun around on pointed toe, thrusting herself back unto her daily chores with whimsy and a silk white cloth. He raised a curious brow, studying her vigorously, "So. How did you like him?"

Rukia turned back, blinking momentarily before responding with a shrug, "I imagined him more, like _you _in a way. I couldn't see you with intelligent friends with manners, and good sociable skills..."

"Sounds like you have a crush on him."

Silence. She resumes wiping the large framed art against the wall in circular motions with a melodic hum, Ichigo twitched, "_Do _you have a crush on him?"

"What? What's with you? Crushes are for children, and _that_ I am _not_. Plus, you saw it first hand, he said he was married."

"You sounded pretty disappointed when he did."

She smirked lightly, slowing her wiping motion and glancing at Ichigo over her shoulder, "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy, _Master_?" Jealousy? Ichigo? _Jealous_? Of _Ishida_? He could've laughed at the assumption that would've never been true, but something tugging at the back of his brain kept him from doing so. Instead he uncrossed his legs, pushing up from the leather exterior of his living room couch with his hands on his waist, "Why would _I_ be jealous?" She wiggled her brows playfully, twisting and twirling around until she's made her way to Ichigo's grand piano and set her cloth down on the bench. He watches her harder, staring as she slips her hand across the key shield, then around the exterior of the piano once until she's made it back to the front, "No reason. Of course, there's no reason to be jealous because I find one of your married friends to be somewhat attractive is all."

Uryuu, attractive? Again, he would laugh, but instead he found himself sinking into a deepening pit of blackness the more and more she spoke of Ishida, "Why would you find a married man attractive?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't—" Ichigo rose his voice slightly, lowering back down to his normal tone, "care. I just don't...understand why...you would find _him _attractive when you see _me _everyday."

She paused, jerking forward with a breathless chuckle. Slapping her hands to her knees to keep her body supported, "_You_? You're _nothing_ like him. He has mannerism, _plus _good looks, he's responsible. He's polite. You..." she rolled her eyes, turning her back to Ichigo standing in the middle of his living room. "_Me_?"

"Nothing."

"So," he ran his digits down the chisel of his chin as he approaches the elevated area with his piano and penthouse windows, "you find Ishida attractive because he's...a little goody two shoes."

"You don't have to be a _little goody two shoes _to be polite."

"So, I'm not polite?"

She scoffed, circling around his piano once more once she's caught the vibe that he's creeping up behind her, stopping on the side opposite to him, "_Hell _no."

"And if I was—"

"Why are you asking _me _this?"

Ichigo shrugged, "Maybe, I find it necessary that I take advice from you about what women like so that I can find myself with a good one." Rukia narrowed her eyes into thin _deadly _lines. He grinned inwardly.

_Gotcha_.

"Fine," she gradually approached him, turning to face his front while he stood before the piano. She crossed her arms once more, inspecting him from head to toe and taking a step back to study him more, "I still think you shouldn't have dyed your hair that god awful orange color." Ichigo flinched, "I told you. It's. _Natural_."

"And that scowl," she continued as she slid up onto the piano's top to sit comfortably while she inspected him thoroughly, "is your face _always _like that? It wouldn't kill you to smile every once in a while. You look murderous."

_I'm close to becoming murderous too. _

"And you always look so sloppy in your work clothes too, actually. It doesn't really matter _how _you dress, it's always a mess. Get your shit together Kurosaki."

"What's wrong with the way I dress!?" His tone had inadvertently rose to a higher pitch in his questioning. Rukia grinned victoriously, "Well for starters. You could start by actually _grooming _that messy hair of yours. It always looks like you just rolled out of bed." _You seem to like it just the way it is, by the way you always pull on it_. Ichigo brought his hands to his head, patting down his downy spikes with his heavy palms, "And your tie is always crooked. Nobody tells you about this at work?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come here," She grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, tugging him closer so she'd grab a hold of his stiff collar. Her fingers worked feverishly to unknot the sloppily done necktie, slipping it off from around his broad shoulders, "A woman likes it when a man presents himself well. It gives him the impression that he's doing well for himself. A handsome man with nice clothes..."

_Handsome? _He lifted an intrigued ocher brow, standing silently as Rukia wrung his tie around his neck once more, "A handsome man. Who knows how to make a woman feel beautiful...and..."

"_And__..._?" Ichigo leaned forward, grasping the edges of his piano with his body holding up only inches away from her own. He slid the warmth beneath the fabric of her dress to caress the skin of her naked shoulder tenderly, bringing it down to expose more of her precious skin to him, grazing his lips across the curve of her shoulder and planting a kiss against her neck. "_And..._" Rukia rasped softly, tugging on both end of his neck tie to bring him closer to her heat, "_a man who can...give a woman what she wants..._"_  
_

"_Tell me what you want, Kuchiki_."

"_Rukia—_" she shuddered gently, grasping the small hairs of the back of Ichigo's neck, "my name isn't_ Kuchiki_. It's _Rukia_." He slid her closer to him with his hands grasping the width of her luscious hips, pressing himself against the inside of her thighs with his own pelvis. She tightening her grasp, she could feel him through his trousers. Through her _panties_. Eagerly throbbing against her skin, he was so hot she was positive he would burn her if left like this for too long.

"_Rukia_," Ichigo purred the syllables of her name seductively into the inner shell of her ear. He ground his teeth against her stiff cartilage, forcing the rest of her dress down to unveil her creamy shoulders and pert breasts pressing against his shirt. She threw herself back against the glossy ebony finish of his piano, heaving lightly to regain her full and steady breath— "_I want you_."

Finally. He's heard enough once she's given her final request, those three words that Ichigo needs to fulfill her sinful desire as well as his very own. He ran his hands up the underside of her dress all too slowly as he takes a hold of her thin black panties, sliding them down her exquisitely shaped legs in silk white dress. Rukia drags the zipper of his dark gray trousers down it's track with her dainty toes to help him relieve the unbearable pressure building behind the accursed confines of his boxer shorts. He groaned softly, allowing her to proceed to caressing the bulge of his boxers with her silk dressed right foot, up and down until he shoved her leg aside, sliding her down across the cold slick ebony surface until their hips met once more.

Rukia gasped, _trembling_. Biting on her bottom lip until it ran cold, grasping onto both of Ichigo's wrists with her head tilted backwards against the piano's top. Her body buckled abruptly, writhing once he's surpassed the stretching of her tight fleshy walls, sheathing himself in her velvet core. Leaning over her petite frame and groaning lowly from the depth of his chest into her neck.

"_Sh_—_shit...Ichigo..._" She whined breathlessly. He adored hearing her speak his name in such a voice of arousal, kissing along the trail of her rounded jawline as she claws the back of his thin material work shirt viciously. Every time, every single time Ichigo takes her to her limit, the indescribable feel of undiluted pleasure never ceases to amaze him. Sending rushes of ecstasy throughout the veins of his stature is only _half _of the bliss he feels when he's with her this way, and if he were to die now, he would do so as a _very_ happy man.

"_What do you think Ishida would say—_" he whispered softly, snaking his arms around her slender frame. She flattened herself against him, tightening the grapple of her legs around his waist, "_If he saw you this way? If he knew how lewd you truly were?_"

"_Hah!_" Rukia shrilled, arching her naked back away from the cold surface. Her body tensed tremendously, her muscles constricting around the throbbing of his unyielding manhood buried to it's base inside of her warmth. Needless to say, the thought of Ishida— _anybody _seeing her this way, wrapped in Ichigo's arms while he ravished her felicitously against every surface of his apartment was absolutely arousing.

Ichigo sputtered heavy breaths of ecstasy as he quickens his momentum, locking his hands around her hips to keep her from slipping away from him any further than he'd like her to. Watching as her breasts jumped with the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, until they've freed themselves from the cups of her lacy bra. His stomach tightened, his entire lower body growing tense by the second— aching for release.

Not yet. He wouldn't succumb to the consequences of his pleasure just yet, not when there was still so much he ached to do. He hasn't even scratched the surface of his lust for this unpretentious woman he _physically _adored. Picking her up and bringing her to his own masculine torso, he grasps the thickness of her thighs with both his hands. Bucking his hips forward to plunge himself into her heated depths. Rukia tore at his shirt anxiously, anxious to rid him of the damned material so she would allow herself a closer feel to his rugged skin.

His body became boneless to the sound of her lustful cries in his ear, the sound of her feverishly moaning his name. Her erotic whimpers, and enamored whines of desire. He had to set her down, before the both of them wound up crashing to the floor— rushing to the stairs of his domain, he shoves her back against them. Crushing his lips against hers to catch the vibration of her heated moans in his mouth.

He removed his shirt, much to Rukia's content, ripping button after button viciously from their sewn position and tossing it to the side. Rukia shoved him away forcefully, pulling her dress up high over her head, throwing it to the side of the steps. It hits the wall and slides down, meeting with the ragged steps in which their bodies reside, thrashing and turning in the midst of their passion. Ichigo shoved against her vigorously, pushing her body further and further up each step until she's gasping for air, and the skin of her back is rubbed raw from the friction of the carpet. A sensation which she finds astonishingly euphoric once mixed with the pleasure he's constantly plunging into her.

"_Sto—_" She shrilled, tearing at the fibers of his carpet with her fingernails. Ichigo growled, forcing himself up higher over her with the powerful collision of their waists meeting, the sound of their skin constantly slapping against each other filling the room. Rukia arched her back away from his floor to relieve some of the heat radiating from her raw pink skin as she pushes against the entrance of his bedroom door with her arms above her head. He huffed intrusively, applying a forceful amount of suction to her puckered pink nipple between his roughly textured lips until she released squeals of excitement, tugging on the strands of hair in his head.

"_You're—you're a monster_," Rukia moaned, _sneering_ playfully at him through her expression of erotica. Damn she looked so enticing this way, he wished he could keep her like this forever. Instead he nips at the skin of her shoulder, prodding her flesh with his teeth and running the heated texture of his tongue across her sore pricks. Chuckling, "_Thank you_." As he pushes her into the frame of his bedroom door, bringing her into a whole new realm of his home while he keeps himself entombed in her arousal.

She yelped lightly, laughing at the ticklish sensation of his taste buds brushing against her sensitive skin. God, why did she have to be so cute this way?

Ichigo kicked his door closed behind him as they slid across the surface of his floor, allowing it to creek until it reached it's final place of rest with only a crack left to expose the inside of his room. This way, he would have her entirely all to himself in a single place without the interruption of anyone or any_thing _left outside of it.

This way, he wouldn't have to share Rukia with anybody. He would selfishly keep her to himself, inside the privacy of his very own bedroom until it was time again for her to leave. But until then, she belonged to _him_.

And she belonged to _him_, alone.

-xx-

Karin's eyes followed the dancing twists and twirls of her perky brunette double as she trotted giddily around the open area of her kitchen. She leaped over every second square on the tile floor, she flung both refrigerator doors open simultaneously, throwing her head back to allow the gust of cool air to flow across her skin. Karin sneered in disgust, "What are you doing?"

"Hm?" Yuzu turned her head to meet Karin's baffled expression with innocent eyes, "I'm deciding on what I want to bring to the picnic on Saturday!"

"That's Saturday," Karin said. She pulled out one of the tall bar stools, climbing up on top of it to sit and twist until she's propped her elbow up on the counter top to watch Yuzu from a higher level, "It's _Thursday_." Yuzu frowned, scoffing, "I'd rather be prepared than be in a hurry later on!" Yuzu had a knack for preparing for things overly-early. She preferred to have her plans so elaborate, so complex and prestigious that Karin rarely attempted to ever follow through. She herself preferred to act on the same day of, rather than days ahead of time, unlike Yuzu who would absolutely _die _if ever put on the spot to finish something the day of.

For twins, the two women were worlds apart personality wise, as well as physically. Karin herself questions her relativity to Yuzu on a daily— if not, weekly basis. She shrugged nonchalantly, rolling her eyes in a complete circle before bringing them back to their stationary position, "_Whatever_."

"Say, Karin..." Yuzu reached to the back of the cold fridge to retrieve a container of milk, "do you think Ichigo is _happy_?"

"Happy as in...?"

"No— I mean," she narrowed her eyes thinly to scan across the small black lettering on the side of the carton, "why is this still in the fridge? This milk expired last week!"

"Yuzu," Karin snapped her fingers, "Ichigo."

"Right." Placing the carton down on the kitchen table, Yuzu turns her back to lean against it with hands gripped tightly around the edge. She rocks on the heels of her feet, humming, "I mean, don't you think he's been kind of miserable lately— more than usual in fact? Ever since...well. Ever since Senna...passed away..." Karin chewed on her bottom lip in anxiousness as both women grew silent. _Senna_— she had been the only woman Yuzu and Karin had ever seen Ichigo happy with. The only woman he'd committed to, and pursued to having a serious relationship with, until her untimely expiration. Her death had been heartbreaking to them, but in all, it would never be the equivalent to the sorrow and loneliness Ichigo had dealt with.

"_Ah_," Karin exhaled as she massaged the back of her neck to relieve the tension of her muscles, whipping her head around, "what's your point?"

"My point is, what if...he goes back to not coming around anymore? You remember after Senna, he stopped seeing us, and he _barely _left his house unless it meant going to work. We're his sisters!"

"And? It's not like we can interfere with his love life..."

Silence. Yuzu's eyes widened, as well as her mouth.

Karin, unintentionally, had unveiled an idea in that beautiful head of hers.

She spun around, away from the table to rush to her cellphone lying on the living room couch. Sliding her fingers across the screen with vigor before pressing it to her face. Karin blinked, jumping down from the bar stool to run by her sister's side and whisper, "_What are you doing?_"

"I'm calling a friend," Yuzu whispered back. Karin's eyes widened in realization, and she snatched the phone, "No! Yuzu—"

"It's for his own good!"

"I told you we can't interfere!"

"It isn't _interfering_," Yuzu snapped, taking her cellphone back into her own hands, "I'm just going to invite her to the picnic, and _introduce _him! That's _all_! There's no interference what so—"

"_Hello?_"

Karin jumped, struggling to retrieve Yuzu's cellphone. She pressed her palm to the side of her face, springing up onto the cushions of the living room couch while speaking in the calmest tone she could muster, "Hey! Are you busy?" She shot her glare back down at Karin who's constantly mouthing the word _no _while shaking her head, tugging at Yuzu's wrist. "_No. Why?_"

"I'm having a picnic with Karin and my older brother this Saturday and I was wondering..."

"_Ichigo?_"

"Yeah!"

"No!" Karin cried. Yuzu shoved a throw pillow into the woman's face, sending her into a frenzy of inaudible muffles. "_No_?"

"No," Yuzu shrilled, "I mean— yes. Ichigo! You remember him don't you? Anyway, if you're not doing anything, maybe you wouldn't mind joining us? It's at the beach! It's gonna be lots of fuuuun."

"_Sure_," she said, "_I'll be there._" Yuzu's smile widened to extraordinary proportions— oh _god_. She's done it. Karin gasped, her mouth wide in disbelief as Yuzu announces her farewell and ends the conversation on the phone, tossing it back down to the couch. She looks to Karin, clapping her hands together and bouncing in a victorious dance. She shook her head, sighing, "You've done it now..."

"Relax," Yuzu chirped, spinning out of the living room area and back into her kitchen, "everything's going to be great! Ichigo's gonna love seeing her again, why wouldn't he!?"

"_God_," Karin groaned, pinching the skin on her forehead in grief. Inside of her skull rang a bell— a bell signaling the brink of her sanity.

A bell who's ring symbolizes the beginning of the end of sanity for the remainder of the Kurosakis.

-xx-

In the tranquility of his bedroom, the light from the setting sun gently protrudes through his bedroom window, melting upon contact with his bed and the _both _of them lying in it. Ichigo on his side while Rukia lies on hers to face him while her hands lie flat against his chest. Silently. "Do you think that maybe..." She began softly, "we should...stop this? I mean. All the sex? Don't you think maybe it's a bad idea that we—"

"You talk too damn much."

She narrowed her eyes. Ichigo rolled his, caressing the skin on her back lately with a graze of his thumb, "First you _want it_, then you talk about stopping. Women are just...confusing."

"I just think it's a bad idea that we keep doing this behind people's backs. _Someone's_ eventually gonna find out and..."

"You wanna tell everybody?"

"No you—" Rukia slapped him, hard on his right pectoral. He hissed in agony, bringing his hand to the tender spot of his assault, "_Ow_!"

"Your hopeless, Kurosaki."

Kurosaki. It almost made him frown how she reverted back to referring to him as his surname instead of his first like her loves her to_. _It was good while it lasted. "Yeah? Well, _you're_ annoying."

"_Me_? You should be the _last _one to talk about—"

"But I missed you."

Rukia paused in bafflement, staring with parted lips and half lidded eyes at him. The gentle caress of his finger ceases against her back, and he grins wolfishly upon seeing her reaction, wiggling his brows. _Bastard_. Rukia buried her face in the surface of his pillow, _praying _that the cool casing would stop her face from heating up and make her redness disappear before he noticed. _  
_

As if he already hasn't. "_Shut up_..." she mumbled disjointedly into the cotton fabric with her belly pressed against the mattress. "I did. The days you were gone I felt..." Ichigo sighed, grumbling lowly before he turned to his back beside her, "really shitty. Even my sisters noticed."

"You have _sisters_?" Rukia chirped, lifting her head in budding interest. "Yep," he responded dryly, "two of 'em. Twins. They're in their twenties now. I missed a whole chunk of their lives from when they were just middle schoolers to..." _Why am I telling her this? _It felt strange to open up to someone other than Uryuu, especially someone like Rukia. He squinted his eyes at the oddity of his behavior, shifting his head across his pillow to meet her eye-to-eye. She raised an elegant raven brow, "What? I was just asking. You never brought up having sisters to me before."

"Oh yeah?" Ichigo turned over on his stomach, positioning himself so that he lies flatly with his arms bent out in front of him, glaring at her with mild intensity, "What about you? You an only brat?"

_Child_. Rukia twitched, rolling her eyes at him and sighing. She scratched her scalp gently, "Yeah. I have an older sister. But she died when I was still a child..."

"You two live in the same foster home?"

"Never," she shook her head, "Hisana was older, _way _older than me. She was already married and when our parents..." She drifted off into silence, leaving Ichigo in a blank stare. Dropping her hand back down to the pillow below her head and lowering her eyes to her fumbling fingers, "Actually. I don't know _what _happened to our parents. Me as a child, Hisana was more of a mother than a sister to me, and her husband. Byakuya. Although he was my brother in law, he acted like a father. When they died it was like...I lost my parents all over again. _Now_? I've got nobody. It just makes me feel..."

"_Lonely_." Ichigo whispered softly, resting his head in the palm of his hand. Rukia jerked her attention back over to him in shock as if she'd forgotten he was there in the first place. She scoffed smugly, "What would _you _know about loneliness?"

"My mom was killed in a hit and run accident when I was a kid. After that, I'm not sure if my old man really knew what would become of us," He blinked, glancing over at Rukia once more, "he passed a couple years ago from pancreatic cancer."

"But you've still got your sisters—"

"Then. My fiancee passed away two years ago." She sealed her lips shut, receding from him only slightly. Why would he bring that up, now of all times? While he's in his bed with another woman, in his bed where he's had several others, he exhaled heavily with a shake of the head. Maybe he _was _going crazy. "She was...special. Not like my old man, or my mom but. Before her, I really, _really _sucked with relationships. I always told myself I'd never fall in love, 'cause when you love something and you lose it...it hurts. Then I met her. I loved her, and I lost her. After that, I hadn't gone to see my sisters for years, I've been so down in the shitter. And now," he turned to Rukia before continuing in monotone, "I'm by myself. Lonely."

Rukia pursed her lips, lifting her hand from the surface of his bedding to Ichigo's shoulder level hesitantly. She paused, raising it higher until she's met his face and surprisingly, he doesn't object. He sits still in wait for her gentle caress, staring into her weary globes of amethyst in whimsy. Waiting for her—

brute slap against his forehead. "_Ah_," Ichigo yelped, slapping his own hand to his heated forehead, "what the fu—"

"_That's _for even _trying _to compare yourself to me. Idiot. I don't want your damn sympathy, or your pity."

_Bitch_. She always had a habit of doing that after sex, dragging Ichigo down from cloud nine. Tearing into his jovial mood with her talons of fury or, whatever demons like her had. "I was just trying to—"

Again, she slapped him hard on the forehead in the exact same spot with the exact same force. Immediately shutting him up by doing so, he hissed venomously and rolled his eyes backwards, "_Mother fu..._"

"And _that's _for not seeing your sisters. Be happy that you've still got family, who _love _you. You better go and visit them."

"I _am_," Ichigo growled barbarically, still recovering from the sting of his forehead. "Saturday. We're having a picnic at the—"

"Good," Rukia snapped, slapping him again, "And you better not abandon them ever again."

"But I—"

She slapped him yet again, only this time _harder_. "Fuck! I—" Again. Ichigo cried out in pain, rolling over on his back with his hands compacted down to his forehead, "Alright god _dammit_!" God, she was going to bring his headaches back with her repetitive strikes. But even so, she smiled, laughing. Ichigo glimpsed over at her from the corner of his eyes, looking at her peaceful position. Lying on her side with her cheek rested on her fist, smiling down at him even after a conversation like _that_.

Dammit. He closed his eyes, sighing loudly. Slinging his arm over his chest to muffle the bass drum sound of his beating heart. Rukia raised her hand once more, "Hit me again," Ichigo muttered, "and you're fired." She continued, running her fingers through the spikes of his hair, "Do you _like _me, Kurosaki?"

Again with that damn question. That infernal question she'd asked him upon the few days she'd been here. Before they'd barely scratched the surface of getting to know one another, before he'd even gotten over the hump of getting comfortable around her. Then, he hadn't the slightest clue of an answer for her. _Now_. He blinked, relaxing every muscle within his body in the breath of a soft sigh, "You mean," he said, "do I '_fancy your company_'?"

"Yes, you idiot."

"I guess," Ichigo mumbled softly, shrugging his shoulders, "you're pretty..._alright_."

"You can't use the same thing on me twice," Rukia divulged, raising her hand to deliver another firm slap to the—

He caught her by the wrist, squeezing her firmly, "No. I don't _fucking_ like you. You hit me."

"You're such a baby. Be a damn man and take it."

"You _hit _like a man."

"Shut the hell—"

"But," he bursted out, "it's pretty boring here...without you around. I mean. So..." Rukia rolled her eyes in irritation, breaking through his defense and smacking down on his forehead. She kept her hand there to rest, waiting, watching his expression flicker as he glares up at her with menacing eyes. "Well you're gonna have to put up with me not being here tomorrow, I've got my last class."

"Whatever. I have things to do tomorrow anyway so it's not like you not being here will—"

"Gotta go see your therapist?"

Silence. He blinked several times with wide eyes, and Rukia smirked, "I saw the reminder on your desktop. I knew you had issues, but a therapist?" Damn her, taunting him so blatantly. And in his face even. He scorned her viciously, "It's a physical therapist! It's for my headaches dammit..." He lied. Rukia shrugged, "Whatever you say, Kurosaki." Her voice trailed off into softness as she turned her head, scraping the tip of her fingernail along the surface of the pillow's cotton casing. Tracing her name along the cloth over and over to give her something to do while she lied in his bed.

Ichigo ran his hand down from the skin of her naked shoulder, to the arch of her back where he slowed to caress the slight groove. She continued to falsely write her name on the pillow's casing, exhaling softly at his touch. At the feel of his callused palms continuing down the path of her spine until he grasped the firmness of her round rump tightly. Slapping it stringently and grabbing the vellicate mound of flesh, and slapping it again. Rukia squeezed her eyes closed, shuddering viciously while releasing jagged rasps for air.

"_Ah_," Ichigo purred pleasantly, running the palm of his hand unto her thigh and prying it an inch away from the other, "Aren't you the little masochist."

"_As if..._"

"Oh?" He parted the moist folds of her sex with his fingers teasingly, slicking his finger up and down along the tight entrance with his middle digit. "But you're wet just from me spanking you, right?" He struck her again on her sensitive skin, watching her erotic reaction as she trembles, tightening her grasp on his pillow. "No way," she breathed shallowly, lowering her head to the cool cotton, "you were just talking to me about your dead fiancee...you idiot. Get the hell..._off_..."

Ichigo rolled over on his side, flattening himself down on her back with his right hand working feverishly between her legs. He penetrated her tight core with his slick index and middle digits, pumping them vigorously in and out of her velvet sheath. With his other hand wrapped around her neck, he jerked her head back and she gasped sharply as he grazes his teeth along the line of her beautiful jaw. "_But you like this. Don't you?_"

"_Yeah_," Rukia moaned in answer, shifting her left leg up higher to allow him more access to her arousal, "_you disenchant bastard._"

"_How cute._" Ichigo kissed delicately upon her temple, pushing back strands of silky raven away from her lustful face. Rukia inhaled sharply, digging her teeth into the pillow below her to muffle her cries of ecstasy. "_You still wanna stop?_" He chuckled sheepishly, curling his fingers inside of her core to caress her inner walls. She moaned heavily, turning her head against the pillow, "_Shut the fuck up..._" Rukia lifted her trembling body up upon shaky limbs, wrapping her fingers around the top of his headboard to keep herself steady. She glanced back at Ichigo over her shoulder, lifting her hips up higher to expose to him her glistening pink sex, "_And fuck me._"

***NOTE: ACK, guess who feels better? I do. My sinus infection is gone thank GOd jeez ok like, I was dying you don't understand you guys. But I'm SO glad to be back, I couldn't wait to write another chapter, and another one and another one...**

**Thanks to those of you who're holding on, my only wish is to satisfy. /slaving author**

**I've gotten a lot of shameless requests for more Ichiruki secks thiiings. I'm just glad to know the people who read my fic are as pervy as I am. ;a; More coming to you soon!**

**Review review review!**


	12. Chapter 11

"_Haaaaa_!" Yuzu exhaled with a certain felicity that Karin couldn't even begin to comprehend— how could anyone be so happy with this heat? She spread a section of the table cloth out with bare hands to unwrinkle it in the center, and pursed her lips in discontent. Shifting the tall pitcher of red fruit juice, just a _bit_, until in her eyes, everything seemed perfect. "Isn't this just the best Karin!? You, me, Big brother, out on the beach in such beautiful weather!"

"Hmm," Karin mumbled in retort. She remained shielded under the umbrella, savoring the cool of the Popsicle she kept imprisoned between tight lips. Her shoulders squared, and her elbows upon the table, her glossy grays panned to the left of her, then the right. She looked all but comfortable— tense was more like it. "What's the matter, Karin?"

"Where's your little _hook-up _you called along for Ichigo?"

"Karin!" Yuzu gasped in appall, "She is _not _a hook-up! She's an old family friend—"

"An old ex-girlfriend you mean?" Karin sassed in retaliation. "It's one thing to invite someone to hook your older brother up with, but it's a _whole 'nother thing_ when that _someone_, is some chick he screwed with in high school."

"She was a very nice girl."

"_Chyeah._"

"Where is Ichigo anyway...?"

The women stared off into the length of the shore in search for their brother, he couldn't be too hard to find after all. Not with _his_ hair. Yet it seemed impossible that they would ever find him on such a day when the beach is flourishing with people. Yuzu sighed in distress, shading her eyes from the sun's merciless rays with her hand. Squinting in focus when she'd turned her head to finally find him—

She could almost feel her heart sinking in her chest. And without question— she knew Karin had witnessed the same thing and felt the exact same way.

Out in the glistening blue they found him, breaking through the ocean's surface with his peach-toned torso until he'd risen enough out of the water to show his cobalt blue swimming trunks. Leaving from the cool waves to head unto the shore, the awe stricken eyes glued on his water speckled physiology, the way he pushed his hair back from his face and shook the water from it like a dog.

Oh, how the women's hearts melted.

But not Yuzu's, or Karin's, instead their hearts stopped cold in their pace, and their bodies frozen from embarrassment. What did he think, this was a _photo shoot_? Karin hardly even noticed the Popsicle she cherished oh so tenderly for its cooling properties had broken and fallen into the sand leaving only the top half between her lips. She pressed her head down into the palm of her hand and kneaded her forehead tenderly, "_Good lord_..."

"_Big_..._brother_..." Yuzu choked cupping her hands over her honey pot eyes.

"The fuck does he think this is? _Cover Girl_?"

"_Ichigo_!"

He shook the remainder of the water he could from his hair with final twists of his head before looking up to realize his name was being called— also to find he had gotten flying water on Yuzu in his bestial drying process. She scoffed, squeezing both her hands to her hips, "If you're done being a super model— I've made lunch for all of us! See!? I even made more cheesecake and cream puf—"

_All she had to say was cheesecake_. He'd already situated himself at the table, slicing himself a generous portion of the desert and putting it on a small paper plate. "You didn't let me finish!" Yuzu whined, crossing her arms over her chest. She seemed so childish even in her age, that was something he appreciated at least. There hadn't been _too _much change among his little sisters. There she stood, in her powder pink one-piece swimsuit with frills on the neckline, and a sheer yellow waist-dress tied around her hips.

Karin, on the other hand, had taken the most impact from change. He snapped his gaze up towards her after the sound of metallic flicking, and the overwhelming scent of smoke infiltrating his nostrils— "Hey Karin, do you _have to _do that here?" Yuzu sunk her head into her shoulders, nervously. Karin, after taking a long drag of her cigarette, released a semi-translucent cloud of gray from her lips and nose before answering smugly, "Would you like me to leave this _oh-so-joyous_ family reunion?"

"_Karin_—"

Ichigo plucked the lit cigarette from in between Karin's lips, smothering the flame in the sand below his feet, "Hey!" She cried.

"Those things are disgusting. You'll fuck up your lungs and your teeth if you keep smoking them."

"I've been smoking all these years, and I'm still fine _aren't I_?" She snapped with venom. He rolled his eyes to bring his attention back to the slice of cheesecake before him while Yuzu, hid in her own palms, away from the family tension. "_This was supposed to be the perfect picnic..._" Karin overheard her self mumbling, and sighed, resting her cheek on her knuckles. "_Yuzu_! _Hey_!"

She threw her head up in surprise, while both Karin and Ichigo searched around for the source of Yuzu's name being publicly announced. She gasped sharply, leaping to slap her hands over Ichigo's eyes, and having him drop his cheesecake unto his lap in reaction. "Hey," Yuzu yipped cheerfully, "Come over here! I've got a surprise for you, Ichigo!"

Oh, it _better _be a good one for him to have just wasted his slice of cheesecake in his lap. It better be a million dollars walking- or a brand new Porsche. But whatever it is _better _confiscate for this disas—

She unsheathed his eyes in the unveiling of his _mystery surprise _and, he could hardly breathe. It _was _a surprise alright. A surprise finding the busty, curvy bodied vixen he once knew in high school with the weird green hair flowing down her back, and the big brown eyes. And that ever-so-intriguing birthmark stretching across the bridge of her nose and upon her cheeks, or was that just makeup? He could never te—

He wondered to himself why he even pondered on the thought. And then, he wondered to himself how in the world _Neliel Tu Oderschvank_ appeared out of nowhere to the Kurosaki's family picnic. However she did, she was giddy about it, and showed this by smothering Ichigo with all the affection she could show.

And by affection, he means her half naked, bikini top covered breasts suffocating him as they enclosed around his face. Death by cleavage. That didn't seem so bad. "_Ichigoooooooooooo_," Neliel screeched excitedly, bouncing and giggling maniacally while Ichigo assessed the situation as well as he could with his face between a pair of jiggling breasts. On any other occasion, he wouldn't mind such an act. But on _this_ one.

He yanked away, holding her a distance aback by his hands gripping her shoulders and stood with his lips parted for several seconds, "N—Nel! What— what are you doing here!?"

"I invited her!" Yuzu clasped her hands together elatedly, "Ta—da! Surprise!"

Ichigo's face remained deadpanned. Yuzu blinked, leaning over to whisper indiscreetly in Karin's ear, "_Why doesn't he look happy? He's supposed to be happy!_"

"_You invited his freakin' ex to a family picnic! How is that supposed to make him happy!?_"

"_I don't know! Just—_"

"Wow!" Neliel shrilled, stretching her arms high over her head, as well as pulling her green bikini top up higher upon her breasts. "It's such a nice day to be at the beach! Especially with you three! Yuzu, it's been so long— your hair! It's so pretty and long now!"

"Haha, yeah, thanks, I grew it myself—"

Karin smacked the palm of her hand to her face. Neliel giggled lightly into her hand and smiled, then, she turned to Ichigo who had seemed a bit more concerned with the wasted cheesecake in his lap than much else of anything. She thinks. "Nel, can we please have a moment? To...discuss something? We promise, Ichigo will be all yours in just a second!"

"I'll wha—"

Before any act of detest Ichigo could produce, he had already been dragged across the beach by both Yuzu and Karin, and held hostage behind a tiny store placed in the center of the beach for beach goer's convenience. "What's the matter with you!? You could _at least _act excited to see her again!" Yuzu snapped, squeezing the sides of Ichigo's face tightly with her delicate hands, "Well!? Say something! I went through all the trouble of inviting your ex girlfriend and you—"

"_Ex-girlfriend_?" Ichigo tore her hands from his face, holding her by the wrists. His once expressionless plateau turning to something more of a look of distress, "She isn't an ex! We never _dated_!"

"W—wha?"

"_Yuzu_—" He ground out, bringing his face closer to hers, "_she used to *follow* me home! I never invited her! I barely even knew her!_"

"Wha..."

"Fantastic!" Karin exclaimed, clapping her hands together in sarcastic amusement, "You invited Ichigo's _stalker_."

"I— _what_?"

"How did you even get her phone number to call!?"

"She...she came by once when you weren't home and— and she gave it to me! I dont— I'm— she seemed so nice and I just thought, when she stopped coming around you broke up with her? But you two weren't dating? So you _couldn't _have broken up with her? But I don't understand—"

It's all replaying now, Ichigo's high school memories. Memories of him slipping past Neliel in the hallways, memories of him defending her in a time of need when he found her being harassed by Nnoitra Gilga. It was a time of heroism— a time where he'd found a damsel in distress and came to her rescue. Not like he hadn't done so before, but he never would've expected her to actually stick around afterwards. He flung his head back in dismay, Yuzu pressed her hands to her cheeks, "What do we do now!? She's already here, it's not like I can just ask her to leave! That's so rude!"

"We'll just go back there, act casual, and when the day is over, we'll pretend like this _never happened_." Karin suggested, clapping her hands together. She looked to Yuzu, then Ichigo, waiting for a nod of approval or a flicker in the eye or— something. "Okay!"

"Not _okay_!"

"Oh, _Neeelllllll_!" Yuzu rang cheerfully, springing back along the sand to meet Neliel who sat shaded underneath the umbrella stationed upon the picnic table. Ichigo could feel his very soul, _cringing_, as he came closer and closer to the table, and closer to her. Oh how he remembers her spine-splitting bear hugs like it was just yesterday she caught him in one. "You're back!"

"Yeah, _totally—_"

"Aw, Ichigo! You made a mess on your trunks!"

He'd almost forgotten about them entirely now that she's made them obvious. He looked down to his groin region covered in what would've been the greatest thing he would ever put in his mouth— if it had _made it _there. "I'll wipe it off for you!" Neliel graciously offered with her arm outstretched.

"No, no no! No," Ichigo jumped, taking her by the wrist before her fingers made it to his pelvis, "I'll get it. They're my shorts they're, my responsibility."

"Oh, that's okay! I insist! It's the least I can do for you—"

"Seriously. I've got it."

"Come on, it's just a little!"

"Nel—" With a swift step back, he pulled himself just out of her reach. Far enough to make a get away, and a canon ball straight back into the ocean. Neliel laughed graciously and clapped her hands in applause, "Okay! Now it's my turn—"

"Neliel— _don't_!" Ichigo cried, shielding his face from the onslaught of water that would soon come crashing into it as the busty green-haired woman made a running start towards him, and the ocean...

xx

"_Ooooh_," Rangiku _moaned_ as she threw her arms up and back behind her head, picking up her lengthy strands of blonde behind the back of her head, "I'm sooo _hot_!"

"_Drama queen_," Rukia murmured softly, though it was audible to Renji who sat comfortably beside her on the sand beneath the shady leaves of palm trees. Rangiku flipped her glorious locks and hooked her hand unto her wide hips, "Come on Rukia! I know you must be on _fire _beneath that t-shirt!"

"It's all good."

"What's the matter?" Renji teased, drawing his hand nearer and nearer towards Rukia, "Afraid to show us a little bathing suit?"

Why, yes, in fact. She was absolutely horrified, why, it was even worse than the last one Rangiku had forced upon her. That dreadful canary yellow bikini with the green flowers to match one of her's, and now, she's stuffed Rukia into something even worse.

A pink one.

And it's _frilly_.

"Touch me, and I'll _kill _you Abarai."

"C'mooon! Show it!"

"No!"

She pulled away from his reach, scurrying to her feet with her arms tightly latched across her chest. Kicking up sand as she trailed further and further away from him. He looked at Rangiku who shrugged her shoulders unknowingly, and turned her gaze to Rukia's backside, and Shinji and Hiyori presumably arguing inside the ocean. _One_ of them is sure to drown the other. What a weird, dysfunctional relationship. "Hey _Rukia_!"

Ichigo jerked his attention up and away from the Neliel, who had still insisted on suffocating him in her cleavage, and up to the sand where he could've _sworn _he heard—

"Where're you goin'!?" Rangiku's call echoed out into the air to be caught by Rukia's ear. "I'm going to get a snow cone from the store!" Rukia shouted back. Ichigo gasped, plummeting beneath the water's surface and _away _from the shoreline. Away, as far as he could swim, and Neliel followed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him up for air, "Ichigo! What are you doing, you'll drown! You're supposed to go _against _the current, not _with _it!"

"Wait, wait, no Nel, let me _go_!" Ichigo begged desperately, this is sad. A grown man fighting to be released by a woman in order to hide from another, on the beach. In the ocean. A simple reunion gone _horribly _awry in more than one way. He took the initiative to use Nel as more of a shield than anything, ceasing his struggle and turning his back to the beach with he on it, "No! Don't let go—"

"No problem!" She giggled joyously. He smiled, almost psychotically, "You wanna dip under the water really quick!?"

"Y—" _Splash_! Before she could answer, he'd already taken a dive beneath the surface and swam in the opposite direction to Rukia's walking path. Neliel sprang up for air, tearing away from Ichigo's back and rubbing her eyes, "_Ichigoooo_! I wasn't ready, I got water in my mouth!"

_Ichigo_? Rukia froze with shoulders squared, she turned slowly, her neck only, looking out into the sea.

"Shhh, shush, okay I'm sorry! Just don't be so loud or else she'll—" He bit his tongue before finishing his speech. Before he caught himself in an eye-to-eye staring match with Rukia Kuchiki in her white t-shirt and pink bikini bottoms barely showing underneath. She twitched in the eye, and her jaw dispatched from the rest of her skull as her mouth sprang _wide fucking open_.

He smacked his hand to his face and prayed for death as he slowly, sank bank into the sea. "Let's go back to the picnic, huh!?" Nel insisted, taking Ichigo by the wrist and _forcing_ him rather than escorting him up out of the water and onto the shore. He could _feel _Rukia's eyes on him, he couldn't blame her. In fact, he was looking back at her.

_Un-fucking-believable_.

"Hey you two! Had a nice swim?" Yuzu smiled warmly at the two returning from the water soaked and slightly sun baked. Karin sat silently, sipping slowly from her tall glass filled with red fruit juice, "Mmm! Is that punch? Can I have a glass?"

"Sure," She perked, slapping on the friendliest smile she could muster through her disguise, Karin took the pitcher and tilted it slightly over an empty glass filled halfway with ice cubes. She filled it to the top, carefully handing it off to Neliel who took it just as carefully and sipped it happily. Karin smirked at Ichigo, at his flushed face and tense demeanor. How his eyes read, "_Help me_" in the boldest letters she'd ever seen in her entire life, yet she was the only one who could read them.

"That—_ jerk! _That_ no good, self absorbed idiot!_" Rukia spat furiously on her way back to Renji and Rangiku. She grunted, falling to the sand in a cross-legged seating beneath the same shady palm. Rangiku held within her hands the inflated beach ball that she had prepared to take out to the sea along with Renji, and stared at Rukia, "Was the store closed?"

"The _what_!?"

"The— _stooore_?" Rangiku carried on the word as if it were more than obvious to everyone but she, "The one across the beach? You were headed to? To get a _snow cone_?"

"Oh," Rukia grumbled lowly, "yeah. It is. Whatever."

"Somethin' buggin' ya, Ruk?"

_Ruk_. That's only a name Renji had called her since their childhood days she remembers oh so clearly. Oh, how it brought back nicer memories of a time where she was stress free with only the weight on her shoulders that a child would be able to muster.

_Ah, to hell with it! _She shouted inwardly, why be upset over _him_? She blinked, as if coming to a bright and shining realization, turning around to flash him a smile, and a laugh. "Yeah, it's all good!"

"Oh, good. I thought something was the matter for a second..."

"Whew, it's _hot_," She sighed heavily, springing to her feet in the warm sand. Both Rangiku and Renji stared in disbelief at the sight before them, Rukia Kuchiki, took off her t-shirt. She flaunted the bright pink, frilled bikini that clung to her body oh-so-lovingly, around her pert breasts and wide hips and curvy butt. Rangiku dropped the beach ball, mouth hung open, and cupped her cheeks in her hands, "_Rukiaaa_! You took it off! You really did! I'm just— I'm so—"

"It's like a hundred degrees outside, Ran." Rukia moaned, pushing strands of raven away from her face as she walked out from the shade and into the sunlight, "Hey! Wanna go out in the ocean!?" She scooped up the beach ball from the sand and took a dash toward the clear blue water without an answer. Renji took to running after her, soon followed by Rangiku as the trio splashed into the ocean to accompany— and stop from murdering each other— Shinji and Hiyori. Shinji in his red speedo, in which Hiyori was currently pestering him for wearing, and Hiyori in her crimson red swim trunks and white bikini top.

"Pass it!" Rangiku badgered Rukia excitedly, pushing off several feet away from her in the water. Rukia chucked the ball in her direction, and she hit it back with open palms. Renji intercepted Rukia's return-pass, and smacked the ball several feet past Rangiku, right over her head, and unto the shore. She smacked her hands down on the surface of the water and crossed her arms, "Nice job, _Abarai_!"

"Don't be a sore loser, _Matsumoto_," Renji teased, flicking his tongue out at Rangiku, "go get the ball!"_  
_

She rolled her eyes, begrudgingly, paddling towards the sand and coming out righting her swimsuit before carrying on. She had absolutely no issue with flaunting her gorgeous beach-bod for all eyes to soak in more than the sun itself, in fact, she made it obvious with the swinging of her hips and the way in which she walked. She slowly bent, retrieving the ball with her hands carefully placed on either side, looking up through curtains of blonde to catch a man with a very peculiar hair color, looking at her.

Ichigo jumped slightly in surprise that he had been caught eyeballing her, and his face's temperature rose when she flashed that _red carpet smile_, pushing her hair back behind her ear and standing up straight. She was showing off— and that had been made apparent, with the way she turned away along with the swinging of her hair, she glanced back over her shoulder once more at him.

He finally looked away, back to Nel who _also _had her eyes stuck on Rangiku, and then back to find that she was walking away, ball in hand. Back into the ocean which she splashed happily in, with the biggest, cheesiest smile on her face, "Oh my _god_! The _hottest_, _guy _was _just _checking me out! With his girlfriend sitting right beside him! Can you _believe _that?"

"Yes," Renji nodded, very nonchalantly while his body stayed turned towards Rukia. It's obvious they had been talking while Rangiku was away on temporary "business", "What were _you two _chattin' about, hmmm?"

"Just about summer plans," Rukia blurted before Renji had the chance to. "Oh? Because on my way back, it looked like you were _laughing_."

She blushed lightly, splashing her hands down into the water, "_Rangiku_!"

"I'm kidding!"

"Nah, she was laughing," Renji snorted, plopping unto his back in the water, he floated by Rukia and paddled himself back around her again in a circle, "I'm hilarious, after all."

Rangiku rolled her eyes once more, and turned back over her shoulder to glance at Ichigo, "Oh my god, is he _still _looking at me?" Rukia looked up as well to find him, staring, not at Rangiku—

but at her.

Even from a distance, she could feel his eyes melting away into hers until he looked down in what seemed to be melancholy? It was difficult to tell, all she _could _tell was that whomever the woman was beside him was _extremely _affectionate. With the way she latched around his arm, and smiled and laughed. She too turned away and scoffed, "_Bastard_."

"Huh?" Rangiku questioned. Rukia replied quickly, "I said what an ugly head of hair!"

"I've seen worse," she shrugged her shoulders, smacking the ball back over to Renji who had been unprepared and taken it to the face while floating. She snorted with laughter, bringing her hand to her mouth while she watched him struggle to stay above water with furious splashing and spurting.

xx

With dawn closing in the beach emptied slowly, but surely. Leaving only couples to sit on the sand and seldom even families, such as the Kurosaki's though they remained at their table as Yuzu packed up. Ichigo sat, studying a couple in particular and their silhouette made by the crimson sky and the sun's setting. Renji and Rukia sat side by side, casually on the sand and near the shore to feel the ocean's gentle waves on their feet. Rukia kept her knees pulled up to her chest while she sat, staring aimlessly into the water as it shined and glistened.

From the corner of her eye she found that even Shinji and Hiyori had been unusually romantic in this time of day, as Shinji lay in the sand and Hiyori rested her head on his chest. Rangiku sat alone however, though she hadn't seemed to mind it. Not a bit. After all, it was she who had insisted on leaving the two of them alone while she stared into the red sun and let the water wash the sand from her toes and feet.

"—can you believe that happened? Pretty crazy, right?" Renji spoke, Rukia blinked, only now had she realized he had been talking to her the whole time. She perked up from having her chin on her knees to look at him and smile, "Oh, yeah. Right. That is pretty funny." She laughed, alongside him. Turning back to the horizon, and resting her chin back on her knees. She could hear the pop and sizzle of a can opening, and looked for only a second at Renji who was taking large gulps from the silver and green beer can before he place it back to his side.

"Hey Renji?"

"Yeah?" He turned to face her, with leftover foam on his upper lip. Rukia snorted, covering her mouth to muffle her giggling. "What?" He demanded of her.

"You've got a little...something..."

"Where?"

"Here," Rukia laughed, removing the foam from his lip with a swipe of her finger across it. "Jeez, you're always so messy when you do _anything_..."

"Are not!" Renji detested.

"Are too! Since we were kids!"

"_Pshhh_," he scoffed playfully, turning his stare back towards the horizon, "whatever."

She sighed calmly, relaxed, for the first time she'd been there. She'd forgotten entirely about the frilly pink monstrosity she wore on her body right now, about her uncomfortable run-in with Ichigo. About... "Hey. Rukia?"

"Yeah," she turned her attention back toward him— only to be caught off gaurd by the crash collision of his lips on hers. She could taste him, the alcohol, the saltiness of the water left behind on his skin, and for several seconds she sat in utter shock and allowed him to kiss her. With wide eyes she stared, she sat stiffly until he pulled away slowly and allowed their lips to separate. His eyes half lidded, he looked at her, and shifted back into correct sitting position beside her, "I...really like you and. We've known each other for a while..."

She remained speechless with parted lips, glancing over Renji's shoulder and at Rangiku who'd stared with wide eyes and the biggest smile she could possibly form without breaking her jaw, then back at him, "I don't want it to be weird between us or anything..."

"N—_no_!"

"Really? Awesome!" He sighed in relief, leaning in for a second, then third kiss. Their lips met again, and again, until he squashed them together a final time for a longer, heavier kiss— "_Mmmph_!" Rukia shoved against his shoulder with an open-hand smack to pry him away from her face. "No, I mean— _no_!"

"Wha? I don't...understand..." Renji watched in befuddlement at Rukia's panic. She touched her lips, and cupped her burning hot cheeks in her hands. Her eyes growing wider and wider in bewilderment, swiveling her head towards the Kurosaki picnic table.

Empty.

_Did he...what if he saw!? _

"Rukia—"

"Stop!" Rukia cried, "No— I— I don't think that's a good idea! It's a bad idea! Us! _Together_! We...we should stay friends!" She leaped up from her sitting position on pale and wobbling stems, falling once into the sand before jumping back up again and kicking up sand in the process. She struggled to regain control of her body, gripping her head and snatching her t-shirt from the sand to hold it to her chest rather than actually put it on. Rangiku sprang to her side, wrapping her arm around her shoulder for comfort, "I want to go! _Home_!" She cried.

"Okay, we'll go then," Rangiku spoke in a soft, relaxing tone as she caressed Rukia's naked back. She turned to Renji and knitted her brows in both question and concern, before escorting Rukia off the beach and to the concrete parking lot where she was the first to shut herself inside the safety cage confinement, and press her head tightly against the dashboard.

_Shit! Shit, shit shit!_

_What if he saw!?_

_He couldn't have seen! He wasn't...there..._

_Right!?_

**A/N: Hi. ouo Don't kill me, please, I know it's been for-freaking-ever. uvu Gomen.~ **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, there's more to come, BELIEVE me! I've got a lot of time on my hands now. **

**Don't forget to leave a review!**


	13. Chapter 12

In the uncomfortable silence which they stood in Rukia found herself, tense. Unbelievably tense, her muscles so tight in fact she could barely move around. Ichigo as well, sitting behind his computer desk. He watched her carefully from the crack in the double doors of his office, watching her from the far distance in which she remained. Since this morning, since she got here, she hasn't said a word to him, or gotten within a ten foot radius of him.

As if they'd reverted back to their _old_ _ways_.

His eyes shot down to the cool mug of coffee beside his elbow, once hot but going untouched for several hours has caused it to become icy cold. He heard the _bipping _sound of Rukia's self-set alarm on her cellphone, and watched her pull it out of her bra, and shove it back it. He wondered himself what it could be for, and looking down at the clock on his computer screen in the bottom right hand corner.

Ah. It's the end of her shift, of course. He watched as she quickly put together all of her belongings and lifted them, stuffing them into her bag which she brought along with her everyday, and head off out the door without a single word. Only a soft, creaky closing of the front door.

Alone, he sat. Sighing softly and bringing his fingers to massage his aching temples— attempting to escape the clutching arms of an oncoming migraine at his desk. He lowered his head into the cradling of his arms atop it and closed his eyes, staring, at the slightly opened doors of his lonely office.

xx

_Slam! _

Rukia threw the door along it's hinges into closing position and chucked her bag at the opposite wall, "_Dammit...dammit, dammit!_" She cursed viciously, tugging at strands of her own locks and pressing her back against the door to slide down to the carpet. Three knocks and a sweet, pretty voice behind the door, "_Rukia?_"

"_Shit..._" Rukia swallowed, gasping for air. Why was it so hard, to do the simplest of tasks? Such as breathing, and keeping her calm, which she's been capable of doing her entire life up until _now_. Her chest felt as if it were closing in on itself, constricting around her heart and squeezing the life out of it causing it to fight. Her throat would tighten when she was around him, her mouth would dry out. And her muscles would _lock_. She brought her hand to her chest in hopes of relieving the pressure— was she having an anxiety attack?

Over _him_?

_Dammit_.

"I'm so god damn pathetic," she rasped, burying her face in her knees, "_stupid...stupid!_"

"Rukia are you okay in there? Wanna talk about it?"

"Nooo," Rukia cried, tilting her head back and gasping for air to maintain composure in the sound of her shaking voice, "I'm fine, Rangiku. Please. Leave me alone..."

It hadn't been until she heard the sigh of defeat, and shuffling of the carpet beneath Rangiku's feet as she walked away, that she resumed her hopeless crying. "_It hurts, fuck...why does it hurt?_"

_My heart. My head, my eyes feel swollen._

_Why?_

_Why do I feel so weak?_

She gasped again, throwing her head back against the door with a small thud and chewing the blood flow off from her bottom lip, "I should've known...he was only using me...how could I have been so _stupid_?"

Rangiku stood on the other side of the door with her ear pressed tightly against the cool wood, she eavesdropped. Catching audible whimpers and gasps, and Rukia's mumbles:

"Stupid. _Stupid_, _stupid for letting him use me. I'm sorry brother...I'm so damn pathetic._"

That's it. She grasped the door knob tightly and jerked the wooden board open, having Rukia fall out on her back and at Rangiku's feet. She looked up into the underside of her breasts, only catching a tiny part of her face in her eyes, "Who is he?!"

"I told you I was fine!" Rukia sniffled aggressively, she ran her forearm across her eyes and struggled to her feet, "See!?"

"I'm not a fucking _idiot _Rukia! Who is he!? What did he do to you!?"

"Nobody! _Nothing_!"

"Quit always _lying _to me!" Rangiku drove her foot hard into the ground and clutched her fists to her sides, "Do you have _any _idea how worried sick I've been about you since you got this stupid job!? You've been coming home late, and exhausted! You're hiding shit! I can _tell _you're hiding shit from me Rukia! And it isn't god damn fair, when I'm all _fucking_ out in the open with you about _everything_— and you're lying to me right under my own _roof_!"

"You were eavesdropping on me!?"

"Why shouldn't I!? You're a liar, and since you won't tell me what the problem is yourself so I can fucking help you and get your ass back on track with not being so depressed all the fucking time— I should have the _right _to eavesdrop and figure out what the hell is wrong with you! It's my apartment, it's my room, _my _rules!" Rangiku's entire face had gone red as she bellowed enraged, "And if you don't like the shit— then you can get the _hell _out and go lie in _someone else's face_!"

"_Fine_!" Rukia blustered back, turning away from Rangiku. She threw her bonnet, and her choker to the ground. She tore her thigh-highs by accident in the process of getting them off, but it hadn't mattered. "Are you fucking serious, Kuchiki? Really!? You'd rather _leave _than just tell me the truth!? Is it that _god damn _secretive!? What did you do _kill somebody_!?"

"I'm leaving because you called me a lair!"

"You _aaare _a liar!" Rangiku's eyes widened in disbelief. She tugged at her hair and threw her head back with her hands pressed to her ears, probably to keep steam from blowing out of them, "You've been _lying _to me this entire time! What's the matter with you Rukia!? What is _actually __the problem_!? When I ask you, you tell me nothing, but then you come in here and it's all— you talking to yourself and mumbling! Or crying! I'm just, trying, to _help_ you!"

"I don't _need _help!" Rukia screamed. She pulled on a simply black t-shirt along with her denim jeans and shoes, "I need someone who'll understand and _respect _my privacy! Rather than _eavesdropping _on me and shoving it in my _face_!" She began ripping her clothes from the drawers of her dresser and stuffing them in a backpack on the ground until it was completely full, and zipped it. "Where're you gonna go Rukia? Where the _hell _are you gonna go!? Back to the guy that treats you like _shit_!? Huh!? What are you gonna do!?"

Rukia shoved through Rangiku, out the door, storming into the living room and flinging the door open violently. Slamming it closed behind her as she left the vicinity of Rangiku Matsumoto's apartment.

xx

"You think Ichigo had fun?"

"_Hm_?"

"_Ugh_," Yuzu grimaced, cutting off the current of water coming from the kitchen sink's faucet, "You're always so concentrated on that television when you aren't working. It's amazing that you can still work a turn table— since I'm pretty sure your brain has already gone to mush."

"Oh, _ha ha_," Karin chuckled sarcastically, turning the volume on the television down and looking over the couch back at Yuzu in the kitchen, "now what did you say?"

"I _asked you_, do you think Ichigo had fun yesterday? At the beach? With Nel?"

"Hell, I dunno. He seemed more preoccupied with other things like _big boobied blonde beach babes _to me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right...maybe Nel just isn't his type."

"Yuzu," Karin blinked, lifting up from the couch entirely to stand up from the couch, "She stalked him. From _high school_. If you ask me, someone like that wouldn't be _my type _either." Yuzu sighed heavily, shifting from the kitchen sink to the counter which she wiped vigorously in a circular motion with a dry towel, "Yeah, but— I mean _besides that_. That's something that can be overlooked, right? It was a long time ago, wasn't it? I mean, maybe she isn't his type _physically_..."

"Let's see, she's busty. Tall. Curvy. Nice hips, nice legs, pretty face...yeah, no she sounds like his type to me."

"Karin!"

"_Whaaat_?"

"You shouldn't think so lowly of big brother! Maybe deep down inside he _does _have a type, I mean. Senna wasn't big breasted or had curves like Nel..." Silence. Yuzu ceased wiping the counter and pressed her finger to her chin thoughtfully, "Maybe it's her _hair_..."

"What? What's wrong with it?"

"I dunno, you said it yourself right— he was pretty preoccupied by that blonde at the beach...and she _did _have a big bust and a body like Nel's...but she was blonde! Maybe he's just not into _green haired _girls!"

"_What?_"

"You know like, it just isn't his _preference._"

"Is that _anybody's _preference?"

Yuzu shrugged unknowingly at Karin's interrogatives, returning to wiping down the marble counter tops with a harmonious hum. The doorbell chimed loudly throughout the house and she perked immediately at the alert, "I'll get it!"

"No," Karin jumped, dashing towards the door and past Yuzu who'd already turned away from the counter top to answer the door, "_I'll _get it." Yuzu rolled her eyes, pinching her hips with her hands, "Oh _grow up _will ya?" She teased playfully. Karin flicked her tongue out at her sister, and resumed opening the door and swinging around it to confront whomever was on the other side, "Hellooo— _Nel_!" She whipped her head back at Yuzu who stood, staring with large open eyes. She ran to her side, to confront Neliel in the doorway, "Nel? What's up?"

"I hope I'm not bothering you two, and I don't mean to intrude but..."

"No, nonsense! Come on in, in, it's a million degrees outside," Yuzu beckoned for the woman to step into their household as Karin closed the door. She smacked Yuzu with the back of her hand on her bicep and mouthed inaudible, and probably dangerously vulgar, explicitives at her. Yuzu squeaked at the sharpness of her swat, and rubbed the tender spot on her arm before turning back to Neliel, "You seem like something's bothering you? What's the matter, Nel?"

"Do you guys think I'm stalking Ichigo?"

Silence. Both Karin and Yuzu exchanged a look of bewilderment and turned back to face Nel, "Yes." Karin nodded with a shake of the head and a shrug of her shoulders. "_Karin—_!"

"It's alright," Nel sighed quietly, "I figured as much. And I'm pretty sure he thinks I am too..."

"Well, he _did _say you followed him home on more than one occasion y'know...in the past...and we're kinda...witnesses to that, so." Karin cleared her throat uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck and turning to Yuzu for more things to say. "W—we should all sit! Yeah! Here, Nel, have a seat at the bar and we'll all talk there!"

"There's really no need to..."

"No no, I insist! Come! Sit!" Who could say no to Yuzu? Nobody. That's who. She escorted Nel to the opposite side of the bar in which the stools were and seated her before taking her place on the other side to confront her with Karin to the left of her, "Sooo? Whadya wanna tell us?"

"I just wanted to _thank _him."

Karin winced, blinking in confusion. Nel again, sighed, "Okay, this guy I used to know. Back in high school, he harassed me _really _badly. Verbally, physically, you name it. Every day, every single day to the point where I'd sometimes just...have a break down, y'know? And then it's like one day, your brother just swooped down and came to my rescue. He beat that jerk Nnoitra up so bad! He never bothered me again, and I was just, so grateful I. I _really _wanted to make it up to him, somehow, you know I didn't even thank him? I just sat there on the ground, staring at him like a lost dog or something and he just...wiped the blood from his nose and asked me if I was okay. I just nodded, and he walked off. You have _no idea _how ungrateful I felt when I didn't even have the courage to say 'thank you'—"

"So, it's like. I couldn't stop thinking about it, it _literally _took over my brain how much I owed this guy and I just wanted to repay him _so bad_! Nnoitra, he was _awful_, he literally made my whole junior high and high school life a living nightmare, and Ichigo was the first person to ever stand up for me. So I...I mean, yeah I followed him but. I did it to just say '_hello_' and '_thanks_' but, I never could. I just, followed him. He started catching on to me following him and he got a little— I mean he got _really _freaked out! He avoided me for a long time, but I didn't want to let that keep me from talking to him, so I kept...following...him..." Neliel inhaled deeply, scratching the back of her head as she looked into Yuzu and Karin's intrigued eyes, "I'm pretty creepy, _huh_?"

Both shook their heads '_no_' in unison.

"Anyway, I, just kept following him. When you guys insinuated that I was his girlfriend I kinda took that as the initiative to go ahead and come over one day, but he wasn't there—"

"I remember that!" Yuzu exclaimed, "I was in my rabbit apron! And when I answered the door, I was saying how cute your school uniform was!"

"Yeah," Nel laughed, "I remember it too. Back when Karin had _hair_."

"Hey! I still _have _hair!" Karin rubbed both shaved sides of her head with pride, "_Haters_."

"Oh, I just feel so _lousy_! I was so excited to finally be _right there _beside him! Right there with him! I _completely _forgot to thank him, I just, smothered him! God! Now there's _no way _he'll talk to me..."

"Nel. You don't have to keep following big brother to give him your thanks, he already knows!"

"_He does_?" Nel peeked through a gap made in between her index and middle finger to peer at Yuzu as she spoke. "Of course! See, Ichi-nii can be really stupid sometimes—"

"_Sometimes_."

"_Sometimes_," She continued after Karin's interruption, "but he isn't an idiot, y'know?"

Silence. She shook her head 'no', and Karin huffed, "Listen. We're his baby sisters, we know exactly how Ichigo is alright? He doesn't need to be thanked for something he was born to do— _protect_ people. It's just, what he does. He does it not out of kindness, but because it's the _right_ thing to do. He cares, even if he may not show it, he _cares_. If he sees that someone is in trouble, he would jump to their rescue without a second thought, no matter who they were! Whether he knew them or not! That's just how Ichigo is, and sometimes, he gets his butt kicked in the process, but he doesn't care! He always gets away with a sense of pride that he was able to protect yet another person, _without _being thanked. Nel, you shouldn't _need_ a '_thank you_' for doing something you _know_ is only the right thing to do, though it's always nice to hear one, it isn't absolutely necessary, y'know? Trust me. Ichigo knows. I know he knows, you're thankful."

"_Whoa_..." Nel puckered her lips and inhaled, then exhaled, smiling happily, "you have _no idea _how heavy that weight was you just lifted off my shoulders..."

"No problem. And_ you're welcome_. Now, really, you need to get focused on other things than hunting people down to give them thank-yous! It really creeps 'em out..."

Typical Karin. Whether she's just being ordinary, or giving a long heartfelt speech about something, she'll always revert back to being smug little Karin. She giggled softly, stepped down from the bar stool and exhaling, "Whew! I feel _so much better_! Now I can finally be at peace with myself, well! I should get back home to my girlfriend..."

Yuzu rasp-berried viciously, spraying the fruit juice she had so generously wanted to drink down from her cup across the bar top and unto the floor. Karin shook her head, snapping her stare back on Neliel, "You're _what_? You have a _girlfriend_!?"

"Oh yeah! You guys should meet her sometime, we've been together now for a few years! She's really awesome! Her name's Tia. Ichigo should remember her, Harribel, Tia? Hasn't he told you about her, oh! There was that time they got into it at high school, and she punched him so hard in the face—"

"_Oh...my goodness_," Fumbling, Yuzu placed the cup to the counter-top, and the back of her hand to her forehead, "_I think I'm going to faint_..."

"Well! It was nice talking to the both of you! Take care, hope to see you again soon!" Letting herself out, Nel turned to shut the door slowly and carefully. She left the twins in awe at the bar, standing. Staring at each other. Karin shook her head slowly and sighed, "_W—ow_. What a trip..."

"I need to lie down..." Yuzu mumbled, on wobbly legs she led herself to the couch, in Karin's original resting spot, and fell over upon it with an arm dangling to the ground. "Girlfriend...she has a girlfriend...and I tried _so hard _to...after everything I went through..._girlfriend_..."

xx

Rukia sat silently in her seat upon the public transport bus, staring down at her shoes and refusing to make any sort of eye contact with any one of the passengers. She held on to the pulley, given to every seat as a sign for the bus driver to cease driving and let said passenger off. Two hours, she's been a passenger.

Waiting, staring out the window at every passing car and person and every car and person the bus passed by. The limitless cement sidewalks and the occasional person walking a dog of any breed or name, it did not stop to let Rukia figure out either one. Her heart raced, they were finally coming to a street, a name by which she knew by heart, and she tugged on the pulley. The bus gradually, but surely came to a halt, and the doors opened. This is it, she sighed, gathering her belongings and standing. Heading off the bus.

She tipped a thanks to the driver, and he tipped his hat before closing the doors and continuing his route with the remaining passengers. Rukia stopped and stared, intaking a deep breath of air through her nostrils, new air. Air she hadn't breathed in a long long time in fact, for she hasn't been here, in a long long time.

She counted the steps it took to walk down the side walk and arrive at her destination, swallowing the saliva in her mouth nervously, she clenched her fists tightly and came into a complex of large apartments. To the staircase and up to the floor in which she remembered. To the front door which she knew, and had only knocked on a few times before on special occasions such as get-togethers or the super rare "_Rukia Kuchiki goes partying_".

She pressed her knuckles to the wood, waiting. Closing her eyes and standing, counting to ten, before giving it three hard knocks and yanking her hand back to her side. Her stomach knotted, tightly, she felt as though she was on the verge of crying or throwing up. Either or would've been an awful thing to do at a time like this. At a place like this.

A few moments and she goes unanswered, she sighs, almost relieved until—

_Click_. She can hear the lock inside being turned, and the door slowly opens...slowly...

"_Rukia_?" Renji purred quietly, groaning a short while at the end of his surprise and rubbing his eyes, "It's really late...why are you here? What's the matter?"

"I..." Rukia choked. She couldn't do it. She bit back on her lip, she tried not to cry. Not to shed a tear in front of a person she'd never done it in front of before. _Dont cry_, she kept mentally screaming at herself. _Do not cry, Kuchiki! Don't ever let him see you cry..._ She gasped, throwing herself into Renji's unstable body. Locking her arms around his neck and burying her face in the nook of his shoulder, "_I'm sorry...I'm really sorry. I'm so so sorry._"

Renji, abashed by her sudden behavior, stumbled a bit backwards before wrapping her arms around Rukia. He caressed her back with one hand while he held the back of her neck with the other, shushing her gently. "It's okay. It's alright, it really is don't worry about it...c'mon don't cry."

"_I'm not crying_," Rukia sputtered, sniffling shortly. He chuckled lightly, slowing his rubbing on her back, "Jeez. You're so stubborn about _everything_—"

"I _am not_!"

"See?" He teased, "Are too. Ever since we were kids..." Rukia ceased her sniffling shortly, rubbing her eyes in the wet spots she's created on the shoulder of Renji's t-shirt.

"_Come on_," He beckoned her inside with the gentleness of his voice, and his arms wrapped tightly around her torso, "_let's go inside. Get some sleep, and we'll talk about whatever's on your mind tomorrow_..."

**A/N: Eeeeeeeeermagad, two chapters in a single night chyaw? Seriously, it's 12:45 and I have no idea what I'm doing awake. I HAVE STUFF TO DO IN THE MORNING!**

**Well. Later on in the morning, now.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Probably not though, it's okay. I understand. It is a product of insomnia and insanity, so. Stay tuned for what's next to come!**

**And remember to leave a review!**


	14. Chapter 13

"_Hmmm_," Orihime studied the delicate arrangement of clothing, folded up and stacked according to style and color among the display. Around her, the entire store chimed with a friendly atmosphere and playful music— "Ah! Perfect! Hey, Uryuu!"

"_Yeees_?" Uryuu spun around on the heels of his feet with his hands cradled behind his back, and Orihime's behind her's. "I think I've got the perfect thing for the baby-y-y."

"As do I-I-I-I-I."

"On the count of three," she smiled jovially, "one...two...three!"

Out lashed the both of them with their hands holding two tiny toddler outfits before them, two toddler outfits that were entirely too different. Orihime held a powder blue white-striped onesie with yellow ducks stitched across the chest, and Uryuu help a tiny pink teacup dress with purple buttons that lined the center of the chest region.

Silence. The couple stared at one another, "That's a little feminine for a boy, don't you think Uryuu?"

"Who said it was gonna be a _boy_?" He demanded of her. Orihime turned her nose up to the air with eyes lidded, "_I'm _the one carrying him, so I should know hands down that he's a _boy_. Not a _girl_—"

"Yeah? Well I'm the one who _made her_. Therefore I think I have the upper hand when it comes to determining the sex of our baby— who is a _girl_."

"How the heck would you know? Because it's your sperm? You've got like, a trillion of those things in there!" Orihime exclaimed, louder than necessary. She'd caught unwanted attention from most of the shoppers, and the fact that she'd been standing there, pointing to Uryuu's groin, made it entirely no better. He looked to his left, then his right in embarrassment before swooping down on her and meeting eye-to-eye, "_Oh yeah? Well you've got like— a million eggs in that oven you call a uterus!_"

_Gasp_, Orihime's mouth opened wide in appall, her hand meeting her chest, "How _dare_ you—"

"_We're getting the dress, and y__ou'll be thanking me in another two months when we get the freakin' ultrasound, and find out she's a girl._"

"Hi, welcome to the Toddler palace! May I be of any assistance to—"

"Yes!" Both Uryuu and Orihime twisted their necks to face the female store assistant, crowing in unison. "Tell me, isn't this perfect for a newborn baby boy!?"

"Uh—"

"_Or, _this dress! For a newborn baby _girl_!" The two shoved their clothing choices in the woman's face, "I—I think they're both wonderful choices really—"

"See, look. She said my choice was wonderful, _and_," Uryuu snatched a pink hat and purple hat from a mannequin of a little girl's head, "it comes with a matching hat."

"Oh how lovely! I'm sure it would look pretty on _someone else's daughter_, while our _son_ can rest comfortably in this, and look! It even has a little butt flap!" Orihime snickered, presenting the backside of the garment to Uryuu and undoing one of the buttons keeping the flap upheld. He grit his teeth at her irritably, "Forget the _butt flap_! Who dresses their kid up in something covered in ducks!? What are you— a mother hen!?"

"Don't be ridiculous Uryuu! They're _ducks _not _hens_! It would be stupid to assume I was a mother hen—"

Of course. Typical Orihime. Smart when it comes to common knowledge, although she's dimmer than _broken light bulb _when it comes to analogies such as those. "Come!" She grabbed the assistant by the arm with Uryuu grasping the other, they walked—tugging her further down inside the store going on and on with their merciless bickering.

xx

The door of Renji's bedroom creaks loudly as it's opened, Rukia lies inside sprawled out upon his bed with bloodshot eyes and clothes she's worn since yesterday. She ignores the sounds, and blinks slowly to regain moisture on her dry hues. "Um...good morning," Renji said unsurely, "I made you breakfast, well. Actually it's just cereal...but it's better than nothin', right?"

Silence. He sighed in despair, "C'mon, Rukia. At least _eat _somethin', tell me what's on your mind—"

"_She kicked me out,_" She moaned quietly, coughing shortly after the words escaped her hot dry throat. "Who? _Rangiku_? Kicked you out? But I thought..."

"I left."

He blinked, drawn aback by her sudden change in story and plot. With the flip of the bedroom light's switch the bulb flickered on, illuminating his room and Rukia flinched. "Wait a minute...you said she kicked you out, and now you're saying you just _left_? Which one is it? Okay, why don't we sit up and talk about this..." He coaxed her gently into rising up from his mattress and sliding her to the edge of his bed, where she sighed and rested her head in her palms. "She told me to get out, because I couldn't tell her what's wrong with me...she called me a liar. I _hate _being called a liar. So I left..."

"Well, that's good, 'cause you aren't a liar—"

"But I am!" Rukia blurted, louder than her voice had been all morning, she lifted her head from her palms, "I lied, I lied about _everything_! Just to keep myself from looking bad— but _now_, now there's not even a point anymore because I've already fucked up so badly. Ran probably hates me now, I hate my job so much...because of _him_. And I hate myself even more. Because I'm a liar. I'm a stupid liar, wallowing in her own tears because she was too blind to realize..." She withdrew herself completely from finishing her sentence, curling her fingers into a fist upon her lap to keep her hands from trembling. Renji enveloped them in his own warm, rough hands.

They're nothing like Ichigo's, she thought. Ichigo's hands had a smoother texture, perhaps from having a profession where not much is done to give a hand much callus. His were larger, and his fingers longer than Renji's— she snatched her hands away to palm her face with them and lean forward with grimace. How could she think about _him _at a time like this?

_Stupid._

Renji sighed in defeat, standing over her miserably as he caressed the back of his neck in thought. "I just...needed somebody to talk to. Somebody who _won't _pressure me into telling them things..."

"I'm totally here for that!" He exclaimed, rather excitedly, "Rukia, we've been friends forever. There's no way you can't count on me for anything. When you're ready to talk to me, I'll be there for you. Alright?"

"Can I ask you...something, Renji?"

"Anything."

"Why did you kiss me," Rukia fixated her stare upon Renji's face, and suddenly it's complexion had been lost in a sea of red, "on the beach a few days ago."

"Yeah," he spoke softly, "I remember." He pulled his hand to the warmth of his lips thoughtfully, sinking down to the edge of his bed beside Rukia in silence. "I dunno...it was just an act in the heat of the moment I guess. You gotta admit though, it _was _pretty romantic." She chuckled sarcastically, bringing her gaze back to her hands bunched up in her lap. Renji soughed in grievance, swinging his arm around the curve of Rukia's shoulders to pull her into his side where he rested his head atop hers, "Listen. I'm sorry about that, alright? I realize it would fuck up our friendship if we ever...got together like that. I was rash. I just, half expected you to feel the same way about me but, that doesn't excuse it. I should've asked you before I—"

_Beep beep beep_! Three loud chimes sharp enough to send a rush of excitement down Rukia's spine, she drew her cellphone from her pocket to examine the screen with inquisitiveness. It had been her daily alarm, gone off at a specific time she had set always the day before and 30 minutes earlier than the exact time she would've been expected to show up there. The alert a symbol of a bell sending off waves of sound and flickering red letters above it spelling out the word:

**Work.**

She swallowed heavy, pulling away from Renji's broad shoulder, "What is it?" He questioned. "It's my alarm," Rukia retorted flatly, "I have to go to work."

"Ah."

"_Dammit_..."

"Well hey, if you're too tired— I mean. You didn't get any sleep last night did you? Tell your boss, I'm sure he'll understand."

_If only you knew_, she grimaced inwardly. Grinding her teeth together lugubriously she tightened her lips into a thin, sharp edged line. "Did you sleep well last night," she shot out in sudden curiousness, more so to escape her inner mourn. "Yeah," Renji assured, though the precipitous flicker in his dark brown eyes told otherwise as he nodded his head. As if the gesture put him in pain, probably from a crick in his neck or tightness in his muscles from sleeping on the sofa out front, "Sorry," Rukia confessed lightly, "I should've slept on the couch, not you—"

"Nah, it's no big deal. Really. I offered you the bed, 'cause you needed it."

"Yeah, but," She rubbed her eye with the pads of her fingers in circular caress, "I shouldn't stay here. Ran'll be worried sick about me...and...I need to start looking for another job."

"You don't have to rush yourself, Rukia." He ran his hand up and down the curve of her back tenderly, and though he meant it as a means of comfort she found it to be the complete opposite, but said nothing. "Take all the time you need. And in the meantime, you can stay here."

xx

"I wonder why Ichigo doesn't use his pool," Yuzu pondered on the thought for several seconds before Karin reported to her an oh so factual and intelligent feedback, "Because he's an idiot."

"Hm," she shrugged, "I guess."

"It's kinda a shame," Karin suggested, taking a long drag from her cigarette slowly turning to no more than gray ash at the butt. She exhaled heavily with a dreadful sigh, excreting the dark smoke from her throat and nose, "Living in this big giant apartment by himself. He's got all this money, and spends it on crap he won't use."

"Maybe it's an outlet for something."

"You think everything is an outlet for something."

"Nuhuh," Yuzu shrilled, lifting up from the inflated yellow rubber of her pool float. She looked to Karin who floated feet away across from her sticking out from a transparent intertube which slowly crept along the surface of the water and the gentle waves pushing against it. She wore black sunglasses to repel the sun's violent rays, and a dark blue bikini top and bottoms, pushing against the water with her left hand and taking puffs from her cigarette with her right. "I dunno...maybe he just does it 'cause he's compensating for something."

"Compensating?" Yuzu perked, lying back down on top of her float, "What's that?"

"Seriously?"

She nodded, pulling down the dark brown lenses of her sunglasses over her eyes, running her fingers through the cool water below her. "It's like. When a man compensates for something, sometimes, he'll get or buy things that are big and extravagant for no reason just to get people's attention and keep their minds off _something _else."

"Hm," Yuzu pursed her lips in awe of the explanation, "weird. What do you think he's compresating—"

"Compensating."

"—_c__ompensating_ for? His hair maybe?"

"Nah. He's a guy, so, it's probably for his _dick _or something. I don't know."

"Ew," Yuzu curled the corner of her lip in disgust, "what is it, too big or something?"

"Why the hell would I know!?"

"You've seen him coming out the shower before—"

"_Al—right_. Thanks for horrific memories, and besides, that was back when we were kids. We both saw him just recently in nothing but his _swim trunks _anyway."

"Well, _I _wasn't paying attention _to_ _it_."

"And you're insinuating that _I was_?"

Yuzu snorted, "So you think it's gotten bigger?"

"_H—oly _shit," Karin threw her head back in disbelief, dragging her palm across her heated face, "I don't know _why_ people believe you're the innocent twin."

The women laughed, Karin finishing off half of her cigarette and flicking the remainder over the edge of the pool and out, "But then again," Yuzu blurted, "that would be a stupid thing to compensate for wouldn't it?"

"Can we be done talking about our older brother's dick please?"

"_I'm just saying_..." Yuzu began to hum, softly and harmoniously, a melody that she's created and perfected to herself over a period of only a few seconds before coming to a cease with all words and action. She paused in thought, frozen, finally snapping back into motion with a tilt of her head to spot Karin floating closer and closer to her without even her knowledge or noticing, "Say. Karin?"

"If it's about Ichigo's junk—"

"It's not about big brother's privates," She reassured her sister, "haven't you noticed something? Ichigo's been...acting different lately. Well, I mean different from how he would _usuall__y _be."

"Yeah? And why do you say that?" Karin purged into her sister's investigation furthermore with inquiry. "I walked around his apartment, the _whole _apartment, in all the rooms and everything. And I didn't find _one _thing, a hint or clue that a woman had been there."

"_So_?"

"So? It's weird. Because I always usually do. Even when he tries to clean up, there's always something left behind like a strand of hair, or a lipstick stain, a makeup smear. A piece of lingerie, an earring—"

"_Jesus_ Christ, Sherlock Holmes!"

"I'm _just _saying! It's a little strange. Ichigo's thorough, but he's not _that _thorough _believe_ _me_." Karin stretched her arms out high above her form, dropping them back down to her sides and into the water with a soft splash, "So what're you saying, Ichigo hasn't had a woman in his apartment for once? For maybe a day or two?"

"That..._could _be what it is. But no, what I'm thinking, is that Ichigo is _hiding_ something from us. Remember when he didn't bring up hiring another maid after Chikane retired?"

"But why would he _hide _something like that from us?"

"_Exactly_."

"Oooh, I see! So you think_ big brother_ has a_ little french maid _he's keeping from us, and maybe..." Karin sniggered fiendishly, "you, are _bad_."

"The baddest," Yuzu sang, the two bumped fists in self celebration of their self proclaimed discovery and Yuzu rolled. Paddling across the water atop her float to get to the edge of the pool where she climbed out, careful not to get wet. "Where're you going?" Karin canvassed, at a loss. Yuzu turned to say, "Ichigo just came out into the kitchen," as a signal for Karin to join her in their meet-and-greet. And she did, just as careful not to get soaked so the possibility of tracking water into Ichigo's apartment was none.

She trailed behind Yuzu, pushing open the sliding glass double doors and closing them again once they've come inside to find Ichigo in his kitchen like Yuzu announced. He's dressed down, awfully dressed down in fact, in a dingy dark t-shirt and dark gray and black plaid-patteren pajama pants with the drawstrings hanging loosely in the front. "Look who's finally decided to roll out of their bed!" Yuzu exclaimed, she threw her arm around his torso in a casual side-hug while he sipped cold stale black coffee from a white mug, and hugged her back with his free arm. "_Mhm_."

Karin knitted her brows in officiousness, watching as he pulled from Yuzu and turned over his coffee mug to expose of the black liquid down the drain in the kitchen sink, "So...how're you feeling, Ichigo?"

"Fine."

"You didn't want to join us in the pool?" Yuzu asked. He shrugged nonchalantly, "You guys just called and asked to use it."

"Well..._yeah_, but."

"You know you don't have to do that," Ichigo murmured lowly, "if you wanna come over just come. I don't mind if it's you two," he looked to the black rimmed analog clock hanging upon the kitchen wall and sighed, "I gotta go to work. Just. Stick around if you guys want. I guess."

"O—okay," Yuzu stuttered and blinked, "have a nice day at work."

They watched as their brother departed and slugged up the stairs all the way up into his bedroom where the door had been shut softly. Exchanging the same look of abashment, and ultimately, rendered speechless by the odd behavior he had been portraying. Karin looked to the empty pot of coffee, the pot of coffee that was _never _empty around this time or day, not the way Ichigo drank it. And it had definitely, never before held stale coffee, or day old coffee. The pot of coffee sloppily thrown in the sink, among other dishes that hadn't been washed, and she wrinkled her nose.

"There's no way he has a maid," she concluded after a quick analysis; Yuzu nodded in agreement. She turned to look Karin in the eyes, parting her lips to speak softly and in unsure tone, "Was I...really _wrong_?"


	15. Chapter 14

"Kurosaki!" Uryuu exclaimed upon walking into Ichigo's office with a coffee mug in one hand and a rolled up magazine in the other. He leaned backwards to look out the office's door, and closed it with his foot as he rushed to the desk, "_What are you doing here_?"

"Upset because I stole _my_ office back?" Ichigo poked fun at Uryuu who had become extremely flustered, "Well. _Yeah_!"

"Sorry."

"Nah."

"Things going alright around here?"

"Well, yeah actually," Uryuu said, "Hanataro's been asking about you a lot recently as well." Ichigo sighed, rolling his eyes in a complete circular motion before bringing his fingers up to massage his head, "_Christ._"

"Oh yeah, and also," Uryuu stretched out his speech, leaving Ichigo in suspense while the man stood taking sips of his coffee in front of his desk. Ichigo twitched nervously in irritation, "_What_?"

"Ah," Uryuu finally breathed, "you got an offer, someone wants to buy the hospital."

Silence.

"_Wait_—" Ichigo blinked, erecting his back completely in his leather swivel chair, "_what_?"

"A man dropped by, gave me a_ lot _of paperwork. A whole damn folder of it, it's in your desk. I didn't look at it 'cause well, it's ultimately your choice after all."

"What the—" He fumbled with himself for a moment before pushing off and away from his desk with the wheels of his swivel chair gliding across the carpet. Jerking the long first drawer of his desk open, he pulled from it a vanilla folder looking absolutely confidential, slapping it down on the top of his desk. He opened it, peeling up the first stapled together packet of papers he saw and examining it front and back, "This is a _fuck ton _of paper."

"Told ya."

"Why the hell would anyone wanna _buy the hospital_?" Ichigo mumbled to himself as he read on through the papers and flipped the pages. He'd hardly noticed Uryuu placing himself in one of the chairs before Ichigo's desk, but what he _had _noticed, was the small business card paperclipped to the corner of the packet. Taking it between his fingers he read it carefully:

**Karakura Business Brokers and Associates**

**Commerical Real Estate.**

**FAX: **—

"I thought it was weird that he went ahead on and dropped off the paperwork even though I told him you weren't here, and probably weren't coming in for some time. He came by a lot though while you were gone, guess he got impatient or something," Uryuu went on and on without Ichigo's attention. "Sure was an odd fellow though. I asked him, '_Why leave a business card along with a stack of paperwork? Shouldn't one come before the other_'? And the man goes, '_Not in my business, old sport. Because you see, the way I work, there's no way anyone could say no_'—"

"_Awhhh,_" Ichigo nodded his head in realization, "yeah, I know these assholes. They're the KBBA."

"KBB...?"

"Karakura Business Brokers and Associates. They bought out North Plaza hospital last year, and Akihito Medical some years before that, and some other hospital just recently. I knew I recognized the name."

"Who is he, anyway?" Uryuu curled the corner of his lip inquisitively, taking the card between his fingers from Ichigo and holding it before him. "_Muramasa_?"

"Ring any bells?"

"_Sheesh_," He widened his eyes for a moment only to return them to normal size in exaggeration, "_have I_. Who hasn't? Guy's probably the richest man in Karakura. No, he's _definitely _the richest man in Karakura. I knew those shoes looked expensive..."

"Jeez, when's the wedding Ishida? You gonna marry the guy for his shoes?"

"I'm not sure if Orihime would approve of that," he chuckled, taking another sip of his coffee, "but really, this man is some serious business. He's big talk all around town, even from college people used to talk about him all over campus. I heard he killed a man once who'd found out he was a spy for the U.S. It's espionage, I tell ya. Men like that are dangerous, Kurosaki." It went without saying that Uryuu was perhaps warning Ichigo as if he'd been in some sort of inevitable danger unbeknownst to him. "So whadoya want me to do? Just hand over the hospital on a faulty rumor that he killed a man because he's some sort of spy from a different country?"

"I also heard he was the head of that whole pyramid scheme a couple of years ago involving that last hospital you mentioned. Sakura blah blah _whatever_."

"Yeah, I heard about that one too. And this guy hasn't been thrown in prison yet?"

"They could never catch him. He's too smart, and incredibly wealthy. Men like that never go to jail, and you know that."

"Some justice system we have..."

"The system's corrupted, man."

"Don't get all _psycodelic hippy _on me, Ishida. I swear to god the second I find you with even a gram of marijuana you're fired."

"Even if I share it with you?"

Ichigo scoffed sarcastically, shoving the papers off to the far side of his desk and returning his eyes to his desktop computer monitor, "Oh god, and the man's partner is scary as hell too..." Uryuu shuddered. "Can we get off that subject, _please_?" Ichigo groaned.

"Alright," Uryuu hummed quietly for several seconds as he basked along the field of possible conversation topics within his mind, "In another two months, Orihime and I will _finally _be able to tell the baby's sex. God, I'm hoping it's a little girl."

"Girl? For what?"

"Don't you want a little daddy's girl? Where she can come home and Orihime could do cute things like braid her hair, and whatnot. Just _think _about all the clothes I could make for her, she'd be my little princess. _Yes_." Uryuu sighed jovially. Ichigo knitted his brows and asserted all of his attention to his blank monitor. "If you're going to pretend to ignore me, at least _turn on your computer _first, Kurosaki."

"What? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that, I was trying to figure out how to turn on my computer."

"_God I hate the fuck out of you sometimes_," Uryuu mumbled sinisterly before finishing off the last few gulps of coffee in his mug before it went cold. Ichigo chuckled victoriously, pushing into the button on his monitor to illuminate it finally and stare blankly at his over crowded desktop.

God, he didn't miss this. He didn't miss this at all.

"How's that maid of yours doing?"

A bone chilling wave was sent crashing down Ichigo's spine at the question, so much so it sent a shock to his heart that could've— and probably _should've _stopped it completely. He swallow lightly, keeping his stare fixated on his screen, "_Who_?" He said. Uryuu raised a curious brow, "Who? I'm talking about Rukia."

"Ah. Kuchiki. She's..."

Here we go again. God, how he despised being so terrible with his lies. "Fine. I guess. Hell if I know, she just does my housekeeping. We don't have conversations or anything."

"Hm. Oh well," Uryuu lamented in semi disappointment as he tapped his finger to his bottom lip, "I told Orihime about her."

"Why the hell'd you do that?"

"Because I told her, there was actually in existence a woman out there younger than you who could still put your ass in place." He laughed. Ichigo groaned miserably, despite how much he inwardly detested Uryuu's theory, it had been somewhat correct. Rukia had indeed been the only other woman he'd ever encountered who could bore holes straight through his skull, as opposed to Chikane and Yoruichi. But Rukia, on the other hand, also had a_ magical remedy_ to the problems she would otherwise cause him.

He'd hardly realized he'd taken a trance like state into recollecting on the moments he'd spent with her, the moments where she would bicker and pick fights with him and then have a means to mop it up afterwards. How she'd simply massaged away some of his worst migraines with the silkiness of her hands, he could use one of those right now. His migraine was _killer _this time burning in cerise into his brain— "_Kurosaki!_"

"Huh?" Ichigo snapped back into reality, hastily, "What?"

"You okay? I've only been calling your name a couple hundred times."

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't look like it," Uryuu spoke in concern, "you know, you really don't have to come into work when you're like this. It gets nothing done—"

"Karin and Yuzu are at my house."

"_Oh_?" He lifted his tone in sudden interest, "And so you came to work to get away from them?"

"I came because if I stayed I'd only bring everybody down," Ichigo replied hoarsely with a series of violent coughing to follow. "That cough sounds pretty series. Are you sure you're feeling up to date, Kurosaki?"

"I'm," Ichigo coughed, "_positive_."

"Go home," Uryuu insisted graciously, "I'll take over for a little while longer. You, just go and get some rest. Come back when you're _really _feeling a hundred percent. I'm sure Karin and Yuzu would understand..."

xx

"I just _don't understand_," Yuzu exclaims vivaciously, "It's like a cry for help!"

"_Or_," Karin emphasized, "an invitation to stay."

Yuzu shook her head in detest, she pinched her chin thoughtfully between her thumb and index finger and chewed her bottom lip anxiously, "'_Stick around if you guys want. I guess_.' He says it like that and you aren't even a _little _bit suspicious?" Karin drew silent, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. She climbed back up the steps to the platform where Ichigo's piano sat, resting on the ebony bench and leaning over in thought, "What are you thinking?"

"I think we should move in with big brother."

"_That_—" Karin shouted, "is a stupid idea."

"How come?"

"Yuzu, think. To do that we'd have to sell _our _house and that requires us packing all of our shit, and hauling our asses out _if _we get an offer on it and the bank accepts it. We can't be Ichigo's babysitters, you know. Moving in with him would only make it harder for him to get a woman, and you don't want that, right? Plus, if you haven't noticed, all of his rooms are _pretty much_ occupied."

"Yeah, you're right," Yuzu crowed lightly, "what's a man need an office _and _a separate room for books for anyway?"

"He _doesn't_."

"Then wh—"

"Yuzu, have you ever stopped to think and consider that maybe Ichigo doesn't _want _to move on?" Karin griped, leaning her head back against the backboard of the couch, "I mean, think about it. Maybe he doesn't _want _another woman living here, maybe he doesn't want a family of his own. Ichigo enjoys the bachelor life, so why would he consider getting into a commitment? You can't force one on him if he doesn't want one just because you believe he's unhappy. Maybe he's just unhappy because..."

"Because _what_?" Yuzu insisted as Karin paused to recuperate her thoughts. She sighed heavily, pressing against her temples with her index digits and rolling them around in a circular motion. "Aw, don't do that. You look just like him—"

"Shut up," Karin sneered. Yuzu giggled, "I get what you're saying. Alright. We won't interfere with Ichigo's love life anymore."

"_We_?"

"Okay, okay," she scoffed, rolling her honey brown eyes, "_I _won't interfere."

"Uhuh," Karin propped her attention up on the flat screen hanging upon the wall, blinking in awe. She froze for a moment to investigate her own thoughts before she leaned forward and rested her elbow on her lap to prop her head up in focus, "_On_."

Nothing.

"What the heck was that?" Yuzu questioned, intrigued. Karin shrugged, reaching for the television's remote control resting on the glass coffee table, "I thought it would be voice activated er somethin'..."

"_Hmmn_. I'm gonna go have another looky-loo around the place!"

"Another _looky-loo_?" Karin deadpanned on her sister, blinking in utter disbelief at the pattern of words to come from her mouth. "Yep!" Yuzu bubbled proudly as she swiveled away from the couch to make a dash run towards the stairs—

She hardened instantly, coming to a screeching stop at the sound of two soft knocks on the front door. Silence overwhelmed the two, and Yuzu crept towards the couch once more silently to not stir up any suspicious from their enigmatic visitor, "_What do we do_?" She crowed softly into Karin's ear, "_Do we answer it? What if it's a woman?_"

"_I don't know!_" Karin exclaimed, though softly, "_Why would a woman come over? Wouldn't she know that this is around the time Ichigo goes to work__?_"

"_Well what if she's come back to pick up something?_"

"_It still wouldn't make any sense to come back when he's not home!_"

"_Ah—_" Yuzu leaped in giddy, righting her swimsuit on her physique and flinging her hair behind her before approaching the door, "Comiiing!" With excitement, she flung it open, jumping out into the threshold to greet the foreigner, "Yes!?"

There she stood. Rukia Kuchiki with eyes so wide in surprise she wouldn't have been shocked if they would've rolled out of her head. She examined Yuzu swiftly and quietly, parting her lips to speak, "Ah...is...Ichigo home?" Karin rounded the corner of the door with eyes narrowed into thin investigative lines upon sighting Rukia and she _hummmmmed _inquisitively, "Nope, he's at work. Sorry," Yuzu retorted. Rukia swallowed hard, staring in awe of both the women in Ichigo's apartment in swimwear, what was this? Some unannounced pool party? "Weren't you at the beach this past Saturday? I could've sworn I saw you."

"Ah." _Now _they looked familiar. Rukia had almost not recognized them for the simple fact that they were in different swimsuits, Yuzu's this time a lavender shade instead of pink and it lacked frills, and while it covered most of her body there had been a wide dip in the back. What's a woman need two swimsuits for anyway? "Yeah, I...was."

"You a friend of Ichigo's?" Karin suggested. "I _work _for him," Rukia ground out, "I actually came here to—"

"_Work_?" Yuzu and Karin exchanged the same look at interest before Yuzu had widely opened to door in welcome of Rukia's appearance, "Come right ahead in!"

"No, no, that...really isn't necessary—"

"No, no, come in! I insist. Why— I would be _insulted _if you refused." Fucking Yuzu. Even when it _wasn't _her house she had a power of subliminally forcing people into entering while wearing the kindest smile and most innocent eyes. Rukia sighed in defeat, begrudgingly entering Ichigo's domain and rubbing her arm uncomfortably as she stood inside, "Well? Why don't you have a seat on the couch? We'd love to talk to you, big brother didn't tell us anything about having someone working in his home after Chikane left!"

"Chikane? Wait— _big brother_?" Rukia questioned in startlement. "Yeah! Hasn't Ichigo told you about us?"

"Well, yeah, I remember him mentioning having sisters at a point in time...but he said you two were..._twins_?"

"Can't you tell," Yuzu engulfed Karin in a side-hug with an arm swung around her neck so tight Karin swore she would've broken it. Together their cheeks were pressed together, so tightly compacted it left her with a bunched up facial expression that probably looked silly to Rukia, "I'm Yuzu Kurosaki! And this is my twin sister, Karin!"

"_Yufu_—" Karin spoke as her cheek had continued to be smothered against Yuzu's, it became more and more difficult to speak properly, "_let meh goh alreadeh nah pliss?_"

Rukia giggled lightly, she wouldn't have expected any relatives of _Ichigo _to be so playful and funny like the twins were. And for a moment it made her wonder—

Where does a guy like that come from? Having been brought up around such lively girls, and he's still managed to come out a stiff pain in the ass? Gotta hand it to him, he _is _good at it. "Oh! How rude of me, I didn't catch your name before?"

"Ah— _Rukia_," Rukia spoke lightly, "Kuchiki Rukia, pleasure to meet you both."

"_Kuchiki_?" Karin shoved Yuzu to the ground with a bludgeoned shove and massaged her sore cheek, "Like, _Kuchiki Kuchiki_? You wouldn't happen to be related to Byakuya Kuchiki would you?"

"Ooh! The life insurance guy Byakuya Kuchiki!? Sakura Blossom Hill, right?" Yuzu shrilled excitedly as she rose from the ground, "That's the life insurance our dad was on!"

"W— well yeah. Byakuya was my brother in law after he and my sister Hisana got married, while I was a kid—"

"Holy _smokes_," Karin leaned into Rukia stricken by utter awe of the magnificent figure before her, "aren't you like, _stupid _rich or something? What're ya workin' for our dimwit brother for?"

_Dimwit. Ya got that right_. "Actually, no. The company crashed some years ago and ultimately, well. All the money was lost, and after Byakuya died it pretty much left me with _zero_."

"_Sheesh_," Yuzu exaggerated heavily with emphasis, "bummer."

"Right."

"So what's up, you're like Ichigo's maid or something?"

"Well I—"

"Oh! Well in that case, it's alright because I already washed the dishes!" Yuzu announced cheerfully, "You're welcome!"

"Well actually I—"

"I don't see why that lazy ass can't do his own house work," Karin snorted under her breath. "Karin, there you go again! You can't keep insulting big brother!"

"It isn't an _insult _if it's the god's honest truth."

"What a shame," she sighed heavily, propping her hands upon her hips and shaking her head, "when will you two ever start getting along?"

"_I'm quitting_."

The sisters drew silent, ceasing their sibling bickering at once to turn and face Rukia in unison, "O...oh."

"Yeah," Rukia stressed the awkwardness of the situation drastically, grinding her teeth together in discomfort as she caressed her arm, "could...could you tell him it's nothing personal—" she lied, "I just got another interview for a better job, that's all." And although that part had been true, she couldn't shake the guilt of having lied in the first place. Yuzu began to nod her head, slowly, "Well, sure. When he gets back from work."

"Thank you," She twisted around quickly to escape their eyes, their burrowing eyes from driving holes into her skull any further than they already had. Heading towards the front door, Rukia opened it and stepped out, turning before closing it, "It was nice meeting you two. Really." She said, and she said it with the utmost honesty. Karin and Yuzu waved their farewells and stood in silence as the door closes behind Rukia, and Karin glanced to her sister, both drowned by curiousness and awe.

xx

"It really _has _been a while, hasn't it Ichigo?" Yoruichi purred mischievously as she tousles with her hair wrapped around a _taloned_ index digit. It's as if she's _begging _for his attention to be brought to it, it's obvious there's been a change. It's once long flowing waves of dark violet have been cut short now to hang over her shoulders in waves, and he's noticed. Women _always _do that when they want men to notice.

He just won't say anything about it. Yeah, _that'll_ piss her off.

"Shihouin," Ichigo mumbled dreadfully. She huffed, slapping her hand down to her denim-jean clothed thigh. It must've been a casual day, considering her apparels change from it's usual snooty therapisty lady suit get up. Today it's just an orange t-shirt and denim jeans and black flats. He'll just keep any comments about how _snug fitting _that t-shirt is to himself, and bask upon them later. To himself. "Sorry about that. I've had a lot of things to do lately, with my husband's shop and so on and so forth, but today? You can keep me to yourself for as _long _as you want."

How enticing.

"Tell me, how're you feelin' today?"

"Like shit."

"Good!" Yoruichi cheered, "Glad to know everything's normal then! Any changes in the usual life? Any new friends—"

"Yuzu and Karin," He said, interrupting her abruptly, "I've been seeing them a lot lately. Sometimes days at a time. Karin's out of town for a week, for a DJ'ing job at some celebrity's party outside Karakura, so it's just Yuzu and I for now. She spends the night a lot with me at my place." Yoruichi blinked, silenced, she drew her hand up to her auspicious eyes and sniffled loudly, "_I'm...I'm sorry it's just. That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard..._"

Drama queen. Ichigo rolled his eyes irritably and grimaced. "_You _are making progress! See? I told you these visits wouldn't be in vain. How was the picnic!?"

"Fine."

"How is Miss _Rukia_?"

His heart struck icy cold into a screeching halt and he swallowed, "_Fine_."

"Getting along well—"

"Nope," He snapped, bringing his hands up to his face and sighing, "she's still a bitch. And I'm still the asshole that's making her act like one..." Yoruichi narrowed her eyes, only slightly, to focus on Ichigo. She read his body like a book, an open book she's read front and back, cover to cover and memorized word for word so well she could recite it's script backwards. "What about women, Ichigo?" She asked suddenly, and surprisingly, she leaned back in her chair and resumed scribbling mystery words in that tiny yellow notepad she held on her lap.

He paused in appall for a moment, bringing his gaze to hers. Staring into her fiery orbs until the heat became unbearably tense, "What about them?"

"Is there anyone in your life at the moment? A woman you hold dear? Maybe...someone you _love_?"

"I don't...have time for love," Ichigo grumbled grimly, "I don't even remember. What love _feels_ like. What love looks like, and sounds like—"

"What is love, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"How the hell should I—"

"There's a chemical in the lumbotic system of the brain called, _oxytocin_," Yoruichi began to explain, pressing the tip of her pen to her forehead lightly. "It's a chemical which induces the feeling of euphoria, that's all it is, is a chemical. It's called the _feel good _chemical in some terms. It can be artificialized, taken in the form of a pill or heroin. In fact, it's been scientifically proven that heroin addicts have a higher level of oxytocin in their brains than someone who isn't. But you knew this, right? Seeing as how you're a doctor and all." Ichigo swallowed, shifting his gaze down to the tips of his brown leather shoes in silence. "_Of course you did_," She said confidently.

She read him like a _fucking book_, she did. And she was so damn good at it too.

"But you think it's _bullshit_ don't you?"

"I—" Ichigo shot up, stricken with astonishment being this is the first time he's ever heard Yoruichi _swearing_. "You don't believe love is some chemical reaction. You believe love is a feeling, an action."

"I don't know what love is—"

"Or do you believe it's the other way around? An action which leads to a feeling?"

"_I don't know_."

"Perhaps love is a sound, like an angel's voice soothing into one's ear," Yoruichi pried harder and harder into Ichigo's sanity with her sharpened claws and fangs, "or perhaps love is nothing more than that. A drug. A chemical. _Fiction_."

"_Shut up_."

"Fake. Some make believe word told to young children to give them false hopes of better things than the corrupt world we actually live and breathe in."

Ichigo vaulted up from the couch and to the wall, pausing. He caught his breath and exhaled quietly, "_I loved my fiancee..._"

"_Pardon__?_"

"Don't fuck around with me Shihouin," He snapped venomously as he swung around and away from the office wall, "don't fuck with my head! You know you're so good at doing that shit, you know that? And it's fucking _pathetic _that I let you do it! _God_! You're just like her, you both are the same! You want me to crack? You want me to just, put it out there, how I feel? _All of it__? _You're not even _half way _ready to hear what I've got to say!"

Calmly, Yoruichi brought the cap of her pen to her lips and gently began biting on the lid, "I'm just like _who_? Kurosaki?"

"You're just like...you're just like _her_. Her, her, _her_! That..._fucking _woman, who drives me crazy. She makes me...so damn mad." Ichigo ground out between clenched teeth. He pressed his head against the wall tightly, and closed his eyes, "_She makes me mad but then...__she doesn't. _She causes me pain, but then she...takes it away again. I...I _hate_ her. She hates me...more than ever now. And yet for some reason, it hurts. It hurts so damn bad, Shihouin."

"Why would it," Yoruichi questioned softly, "if you hate her, as you said, and you both hate each other? Why would it matter if she's upset with you? Wouldn't it not make a difference about how you feel?" Ichigo stood silent, he refused to face her. He refused to answer her, to give her further leeway into breaking him more than she already has, no. He absolutely detested the idea. "You have feelings for her. This woman. Ichigo. It's okay to say—"

"No it's not," Ichigo snapped in retaliation. Finally, he cracked. He slipped away from the office wall and back into the hard leather of the clientele's couch where he sat before her, face buried in hands, "It's not okay. Don't you get it? I've already been hurt, worse than you can ever imagine. Once you open up, once you allow someone to get in deep enough to your thoughts, to your heart and your soul, it's over. Because the second, the _very _moment you lose that person for good, it breaks you. Your whole world goes black, sightless. Hopeless. I don't want to love again. I don't want to be broken, I don't want to be lost, _again_. I don't want to let...anybody in."

Yoruichi paused in empathy, staring at him with the most pitiful eyes. She chewed on the cap of her pen, looking down to the unreadable scribble on her notepad in the most dense silence imaginable, pondering. "This woman," she said softly, sweetly almost, "she's important to you. Isn't she?"

Nothing. Ichigo ground his teeth together, top row against bottom, only lightly.

"'_Darkness cannot drive out_ _darkness_'," Yoruichi began, speaking louder than before now as she quoted, "'only _light _can do that'. The longer you stay the way you are now, the longer you continue to construct this tough exterior around you rather than letting people in; the longer you will be engulfed in darkness, Ichigo Kurosaki. If you stay like this, you'll regret it. If you stay like this, you'll never find the white light to guide you through. And _out_."

"What if she doesn't want me, Yoruichi? What if she's already content with someone else? What if I finally open up to her, and she rejects everything about me?"

"You'll only be stuck asking '_what if_' if you never go and find out yourself."_  
_

Ichigo blinked, sitting silently as he soaked in the last bit of what Yoruichi spoke. The words of wisdom coming out her mouth, finally dawning down on him in harsh rays of light, lifting the heaviest of weights from his shoulders and chest. He rose to look at her and part his lips to finally speak, but said not a word. Not a single word which he could muster as a follow up to her speech, but instead, he scoffed, and turned away. Yoruichi smiled brightly, she'd known exactly what that meant in his terms.

She'd won. For now. "How about we schedule your next appointment for some time...two weeks from now? If that's okay with you," she added the last part to his surprise, "you look like you could use a rest after this one. Take some time to think about what we talked about. When you come back, I want to hear good news. A change. Alright?"

Ichigo grumbled softly, "_Alright_." As he rose from the couch and on aching feet he slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers and stared off to the side of himself while Yoruichi began writing on a different, clean sheet of yellow paper, "So then, two weeks from now? How does—"

"Shihouin," he said swiftly. Hesitantly. She looked up in query and stared silently as his expression shifted from blank, to flustered. And he exhaled heavily.

Rolling his eyes in his own self loathing, as he lowly mumbled, "_Thank you_."


	16. Chapter 15

It's been a while since Ichigo Kurosaki found himself in the same situation as before. Before he met Rukia, before his bond with his sisters developed into something greater and they came around more often. With Rukia's spot vacant, and Karin away, Yuzu's away, and there isn't anyone left. But him. Him and his thoughts that gnarl and claw at him constantly without letting up, and his depression engulfs his in a pit of black.

_Loneliness_. That's what it's called. He'd almost forgotten the feeling in a whole.

He lied on his bed, nose pointed to the ceiling. His blank ceiling where he struggled to find anything in which he may be able to keep his mind occupied with for even the slightest second. Stripped of his clothes, he's got nothing left on him but a pair of boxer shorts which are hidden under the blankets with the rest of his lower body.

It's hot. _Scorching _hot. The sun's harsh rays, penetrating through his walls and through his window, beating down on his weakened body. _Fuck _his head is throbbing now, and his chest rises and falls with the pattern of his slow breath.

It's been a week now. A whole damn week, and nobody's showed up. No one has come around or called him, is it selfish to _wait _for someone else to call?

Not even Rukia. Not even _once _has Rukia come back since that day, on the beach. Since that day— but why would she?

He wishes she was here.

He wishes she was here, so that he could tell her it was all a fatal misunderstanding. So that he could convince her that she'd thought wrong, that everything was wrong and she... "_Fuck_," Ichigo grimaced painfully, rubbing the sweat away from his burning forehead. Yoruichi was wrong.

Why should he even bother? After all...

She's happy with someone else. He knows she is.

He saw them on the shore, in the sunset.

He saw them laughing. Smiling.

He saw them kiss, over and over again until he couldn't bear to watch any longer and left in a hurry, before being seen. He didn't want to be seen so flustered and angry, and hurt, and saddened.

_Why the fuck does it hurt? _

"I'm not in love with Kuchiki," he mumbled to himself confidently, although his heart throbbed the very moment he said her name, and it _hurts_.

Is it alright to feel betrayed my someone you hate? Or is that even _possible_? He should just...forget about her.

Yeah.

Two knocks on the front door, and automatically he springs to life in surprise. Onto his feet and down the stairs, he hurriedly opened it— to find _Yuzu_.

Oh.

He isn't disappointed, per say. He only _half_ expected it to be...someone else. "Brother?" Yuzu questioned, as if she hadn't even recognized the man before her. The man soaked in his own sweat, with the flushed skin and red eyes. The man with his hair growing all sorts of ways in unruly patterns atop his head since he hadn't gotten his hair cut in some time. As she walks in, she gently places a touch on his burning skin, "You don't look so good, Ichigo. Have you been out at all? Or _anything_?"

"_No,_" he groaned in agony, his adrenaline rush quickly deteriorated, leaving behind in it's place the pain it once masked for only a short period of time. He crippled painfully, to the couch where he lied himself out and placed a hand over his fiery hot head. It was easy to say, and even easier to tell, that he was sick— and most likely with _high fever_. "You'll dehydrate if you don't drink some water," Yuzu hurried into his kitchen, swinging open the cupboard doors one by one until she _finally _found a clean cup in one of them. It must've been the mercy of god that she'd found one, considering the new pile of every dish in Ichigo's kitchen built in his sink.

She filled it with cool water from the refrigerator's door and rushed back to Ichigo's aid beside the couch, "Brother, since you don't have a maid anymore, you should at least start doing some of your own housework. Or consider hiring a new one?"

"_I don't have a...?_" He rasped, of course he doesn't. He hadn't the slightest idea why he'd even think for a second that _she _would still even consider coming over anymore. "Yes. While Karin and I were here last week, a girl came by, and she said she quit. Found a better job someplace else— she was your maid, yes?"

"_Yeah_," Ichigo sighed, "**_was_ **_my maid_."

"Tisk, tisk," Yuzu shook her head in pity of the man before him. The man she couldn't _believe _her own brother had been reduced to, "Why are you neglecting your own health, Ichigo? Is something wrong?"

"I feel like _shit_."

"Well, get up and do something about it then!" She set the glass down on his coffee table to use both her hands to motivate him to rise, "You're never going to get better if you lie around all day! Get up, up, up, up!"

He didn't move, he _hardly _responded, except a low grunt in retort to her demands. "Jeez...if _Karin _were here..." She began, and stopped, to his surprise. It's as if she'd left the room in mid sentence, completely disregarding it, though all she had done was walk behind Ichigo's couch and murmur soft inaudible words under her breath.

_Finally_, he thought. _Peace and quie—_

"_Yo!_" Karin's voice exploded into the air, Ichigo jolted forward in shock and stopped once he'd risen from the couch. Yuzu snorted, "Karin! How's Vegas?"

"Shit's tight," Karin shouted loudly over booming music both Ichigo and Yuzu heard perfectly in the background of the phone, "_turn it down, will ya!? I'm tryna talk to my sister!_"

"Oi! Karin? I need your help," Yuzu whined desperately, "Ichigo's sick. But he's being lazy and won't get up and do something about it!"

Silence. Only Karin's explosive laughter followed suit, "_Sorry, I didn't get that. I'm in a hotel right now, this guy, can you believe him? I mean— who throws a party for an entire two weeks? Crazy right...you said something about Ichigo?_" She scoffed and sighed irritably, "_What's wrong with the guy now?_"

"I don't know!" Yuzu yelped helplessly, "That's what _I'm _trying to find out!"

"_Is he there_?"

"Mhm."

"_Okay,_" Karin's end of the phone grew quiet, followed by the sound of a door closing, and by the echo of her voice it was obvious she'd enclosed herself in a bathroom, "put me on speaker."

"You're on it," Yuzu assured, holding the phone out to Ichigo. He winced at the sound of her voice, _tearing _into his headache even worse with it's ferocity and tone, "Ichigo, what the hell is up with you, huh? What is the _real _problem at hand, because if you're not telling anyone else, you could at least tell your sisters..._gross_."

"What is it?" Yuzu questioned curiously. "Some couple's eating each other's face off in the bathroom."

"Aren't you _in _the bathroom?"

"Exactly," Karin scoffed, "so _rude_. Hey! I'm having a family crisis here...! Go get your girlfriend's mouth pregnant somewhere else, will ya?"

Typical Karin. Yuzu and Ichigo heard the creaking of the bathroom door open, and close again, "Much better. Now back to you—"

"I'm fine," Ichigo groaned, sniffling afterwards, "I'm just sick. It hurts to move, that's all."

"_Really?_" Karin scoffed in retort, he couldn't see her, but he knew she was rolling her eyes. "Look. I don't know what's so damn secretive, or shameful, that you can't tell us what it is— but don't _lie to me _Ichigo. Don't lie to _us_. We know when something's wrong with you, and if you don't wanna tell us what it is? Fine. Just don't have people worrying about you because you neglect yourself and become this sick damn dog that everyone looks down upon, feeling _sympathy _for you, knowing damn well you don't need it."

God, Ichigo was glad she wasn't here to see him. Like this. She would've definitely snapped worse, or maybe even struck him if she was mad enough. "Is he still there—?"

"Yeah."

"Did you catch a word of what I just said to you," Karin said, "is any of it getting through that thick skull of yours?" Ichigo nodded his head, as if she could _see __him_. "He nodded," Yuzu replied for him. "Good. Now I've gotta go. This party's getting wild, and I gotta do my DJ..._seriously_? I know you guys wanna make out and stuff, but in someone's _bathroom_—?"

Yuzu ended the call before she heard anymore of Karin's shaming, pressing her hands to her hips. Staring at him. He stretched his arm, reaching for the cool glass on his coffee table. If only it hadn't been an inch too far— just a _hair's touch _away from his finger tips— "_Seriously_?" Yuzu raised a brow, sounding just like Karin. She rounded the couch and took the glass, handing it to him, and he drank every drop thirstily. Handing it back to her, "_Sorry_."

"For what?"

"For making you both worry," he coughed, "I wouldn't be surprised if you started thinking lowly of me too, like Karin. She thinks I'm scum, doesn't she?"

Yuzu angrily snatched the glass from Ichigo's grasp, slamming it down on the glass surface of his coffee table so hard he was sure one of them had cracked from the impact, "You think she thinks your _scum_? Your own _sister_? Is it she who thinks lowly of you— or is it the other way around Ichigo? _God_! When are you going to realize that everyone does everything to _help _you— it's just— _s..shit_, it's hard to get things through to you! You're so thickheaded, just like Karin said!"

Again, Ichigo was shocked to find that he'd made yet another woman he thought was unable to curse, actually audible curse at him. He must be doing _something _wrong. It's happened twice already.

"People may pity you sometimes, but don't think that nobody gives a damn about you, Ichigo Kurosaki! Karin does nothing but care, she cares the most, she's said things about you that I couldn't even _begin _to say— _positive_ things! She thinks nothing but highly of you, and she only talks down to you because you deserve it! You_ deserve it_..." There it is again. That saying of his full name thing that everyone has been doing lately— what's with that? Is it some sort of _shaming mechanism _someone has created and let everyone but him know about? Because if it was, it was effective.

He watched as Yuzu stormed to the door, jerking it open with her hand on the knob and slamming it closed as she left. So hard, the picture frame on the wall shook and shifted so it became slightly crooked. He blinked, silent.

"_Damn_," he mumbled quietly, burying his face in his palms, "_I really fucked up. I fucked up bad this time..._"

xx

She woke up with Renji beside her, snoring. _Loudly_. With pain in her neck, radiating down her spine, it was hard to move the way she did, propping herself up so she sat on the edge of his bed with her feet touching the floor. Rukia wiped the sweat away from her head with the palm of her hand and moaned quietly as she did, with her eyes fluttering back closed protected from the sun's rays with their lids. "_What am I doing...?_" She groaned, lightly.

She glanced to him, sleeping so comfortably underneath the blankets. She didn't have to pull them down to know he wasn't wearing anything, _that much _she knew. She looked down at herself, clothed in nothing, and took his loose-fitting t-shirt from the floor to dress herself quickly. As if it mattered at this point. She heard him groan loudly, and shift on the mattress in his sleep, paralyzed she could only stand in fear of him waking. Finding her like this.

She collected her clothing from the ground, and carried it in a bundle to the bathroom where she _rapidly _dressed and pat her hair down into some sort of style that didn't necessarily make a difference from the messiness she woke up with it in. Taking her shoes in hand, she didn't put them on, she slipped out of his room and out of his apartment slyly with a gentle close of the door, and clothed her feet _outside_.

Rushing down the stairs, away from his room. Far away so that she ran outside and took a deep breath of the air, thick with shame. It's filling her lungs painfully, as if it's _punishing_ her. It hurts. So much so, she keeled over, holding her stomach to keep from vomiting on the ground.

It was hard, breathing. Walking, living like she had been for the past few weeks or so in this hell hole, her life's taken a complete 360 now. A complete fucking double reach-around to where it's ended up in a worse place than before, and now this.

She needs a drink.

Walking to the nearest bus stop, she awaited it's arrival on the bench, beside an older woman and a young man with his earphone plugged into his head while he furiously mashes buttons on his handheld game. It felt like an eternity before the bus finally arrived, and she happily boarded it. Paying her fee, and sitting all the way to the back where she pressed herself against a window and closed her eyes.

Only did she open them when it had been 10 minutes after the bus's departure from the last stop, and she watched as people went by. As _time_ went by.

Finally, the bus came to a halt at the next stop where it picked up more passengers and others got off. She looked out the window at the small cafe— the one she was familiar with.

The one where she and Ichigo first met. That tiny corner cafe where Momo worked, and where Rangiku went quite often. But she didn't see Rangiku, and she would've. Rangiku _only _sat outside, at one table outside under the umbrella so she could watch people and cars go by. That's one thing Rukia would never understand, Rangiku's fascination with the world around her. She thought the world was a dreadful, disgusting place. Not a beautiful orb full of beautiful people, like she did.

The bus began to move, and her heart, skipped a beat. "S—_stop!_" She shouted and stood. The driver slammed the breaks abruptly, and everybody's body jerked. Rukia ran to the front and out the door where she turned around and waved a hand at the man, "S...sorry."

"_Just pay attention next time_," the man said gruffly and rudely, before he closed the bus's doors and drove off. Rukia looked to the cafe, she walked to it. Inside where the cool air conditioning kissed her skin, it was always the perfect temperature in here. It always smelled nice too, of fresh pastries and coffees and cakes and pies. Her nose led her to the counter, where she ordered a tall bubble tea, and handed the cashier her money.

"_Rukia_?" A voice called to her, she swiveled around in surprise to find it was Momo, still in her uniform, smiling widely at her, "Wow! You're okay...I'm glad."

"I'm...okay?" Rukia repeated, as if she hadn't understood the word. "Rangiku's been worried sick, literally sick. I had to go check up on her just recently...she said she drove you out and doesn't know where you went. She feels awful."

"I've been staying with Renji," She said in a daze, "hasn't she called him?"

"Tons of times! She's called everyone, trying to figure out where you were, and when she called Renji, he said he had no idea where you were," Momo sighed in remorse, "you should really talk to her. She's really _really _worried about you Rukia. She said she's sorry."

Rukia swallowed the heavy lead ball on her tongue down for it to get stuck in her throat, and finally hit the bottom of her stomach. Guilt overcame, washing over her like a cold ocean tide— "Here's your tea," an employee handed out Rukia's order to her. "Hinamori, we need your help for a little while, are you still on your break?"

"No, I'll be right there," Momo replied, and looking to Rukia she leaned forward and whispered, "I won't tell her I saw you here. But if I were you, and I know you care about her, I would go and check up on her." And as quickly as she'd said it, she was gone behind the counter. Rukia stared at her beverage, thirst had left her completely now and she discarded it in the garbage on the way out.

She ran, down the sidewalk across crosswalks at improper times when cars were still coming. She ran through people, around people, receiving copious amounts of malevolent swearing and curses from those she'd run into, but still, she ran.

She ran until it hurt, until her heart raced to the point where she thought it'd explode, and still she didn't stop. Instead, she ran faster, past the bus which would only take her the same way she was going— to Rangiku's apartment complex which she arrived at shortly after. She stopped at the entrance gates, to catch her breath and wait for a car to enter so the gate opened, and she raced inside. To Rangiku's building, up the six flights of stairs that brought her to the correct floor, and to the door with the shaggy pink _Welcome _mat outside of it. Rukia knocked heavily on the door and wheezed for air.

No answer. She knocked again, louder, heavier— until it finally opened.

Rangiku, hair a mess and red bags beneath her eyes sagging down her cheekbones, opened the door, only a crack, and stared outside with narrowed eyes. "_R...Rukia?_"

"Ran," Rukia coughed after wheezing finally, _almost _catching her breath, "_giku!_"

"Rukia—!"

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. Momo— she told me everything—"

"Rukia!" Rangiku threw the door open, snatching Rukia inside with her arms snaked tightly around her frail physique, "You're okay! You're back! I was so scared I had run you out into living on the street or something— I almost died! And you're, you're _okay_!"

"I'll tell you everything," she cried, throwing her arms around Rangiku as well in felicity, "I'm sorry for lying. I _swear_, I'll tell you everything...!"

xx

_I'll tell you everything_. Rukia inwardly cursed herself for saying such a thing, and now. Now she's finding herself in the most awkward situation of them all— sitting before the person you're supposed to _admit _something fatally humiliating to.

"I..."

"Just take your time," Rangiku told her in a tender voice, "you don't have to tell me all of it out right away. Do it slowly, and only tell me what you're comfortable with telling me." Rukia exhaled heavily, "_Okay_," she said. She played her thumbs against one another as she sat on the ground, on a bean bag in front of Rangiku, "I...I slept with Renji."

"_Whoa—_" Rangiku blinked, blown aback by this stunning revelation, "you _what_?"

"I have no idea why, to be honest. I was drunk, and stupid, and careless. And it's like, I was just so upset...I was so sad with myself, I hated myself so much I didn't care what I did with my body, and I...it was a mistake. I lead him on, I just _know _I did. I mean, I shouldn't have lead him on and maybe...maybe then it wouldn't have happened."

"You need to tell him there was no feelings involved," Rangiku blurted abruptly, "I know it's gonna be hard. It's gonna suck when you say it, because you'll feel like you've betrayed him, but you'll only make him feel worse if you don't tell him the truth right away. Get what I mean?"

_More than you'll ever know, _Rukia cringed inwardly. She squeezed her hands together, gnawing on her bottom lip in discomfort. Again, the air had become thick, and she tilted her head back to take in as much as she could before going any further with her speaking. "You know what sucks even more? The whole time, the _whole _time we were having sex...all I could think about was..._another _man." Rangiku's eyes widened in interest of hearing more about Rukia's scandal. She chuckled to take the edge off her sorrow, and looked down into her lap with leaky eyes, "This guy. This guy...took me on a trip, Ran. At first I hated him, sounds stupid right? But I did, I hated the hell out of him. He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's...a jerk. He's...an idiot. He's a lot like me, actually. And that's why I hate him so much...so much."

"Then why were you thinking about him while you were with _Renji_?"

"Because he's all I _could _think about when I was with Renji," Rukia sniffled lightly and rubbed across her face with the palm of her hand, "I'm a terrible fucking person, wow. I'm really the absolute worst, I mean. How could I do this— to _both of them_? Not only to Renji, my childhood friend, but to Ichigo too and I—"

She dead stopped, slapping her hand over her mouth in surprise. She did it.

She said his name.

Rangiku blinked, tilting her head in further curiosity, "Ichigo? Who's that? Did we go to school with him or something?"

"N...no...he's, um. He isn't in school anymore," Rukia stuttered hesitantly, "just. Nevermind where I know him from okay? You don't know him. But it's just. Everything Renji did, I thought back to Ichigo. When he kissed me, I only thought about how much more different it felt than when Ichigo did. And when he touched me, it was like...I couldn't stop thinking about him."

"How did it feel?" Rangiku questioned, "Better? Worse?"

"Different," Rukia retorted swiftly. "It felt different, down to the last detail. It isn't what I was used to, it wasn't the same and it. It left me thinking that...maybe I miss him. Ichigo. His kisses were like fire, they were hot but they were gentle at the same time. And the way he touched me was just so passionate and hell hot I melted in his arms—"

"Can I meet this guy?"

"Ran!"

"I'm kidding," Rangiku teased, flicking her wrist at Rukia, "someone got a little jealous, didn't she? Jealous I wanna meet your _manly flame_? What? Did you think I might try and steal him away from you or something?"

Silence. "It's not...I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous? He's a jerk. Do you have _any idea _how hard he played me, Rangiku? After everything, I swear I tell him I'll be gone for _one day _and I turn around and he's with another woman! Another damn woman— some big boobed, dimwit probably!" Rangiku squinted her eyes devilishly at her. "_Sorry_."

"And, how do you know she wasn't just a friend of his?"

"It was so easy to tell! I mean, the way she was all up on him, all over him like he was a toy or something...I wanted to throw up. I was so mad, but then it's like...when Renji kissed me on the beach, I was _so scared _he'd seen it. And I didn't know why."

"He was at the beach? _Ichigo?_"

"Yeah," Rukia nodded, "he was there. That's where I saw him with his busty bikini beauty splashing around in the water like kids. _Playing _with each other. I mean, she was _all over him!_"

"And you're _positive _this woman couldn't have been a relative or something," Rangiku purged, "look, I'm not saying it's likely, but it's possible. Judging from how you made it sound, it _may _have been a girlfriend of his or something, but anything is possible. You should always confirm things before making assumptions, you'll never know for sure if you don't. And if you go your whole life thinking the worst, then you'll never get this thing off your chest, and you'll never be happy."

"_Wow_," Rukia had been shocked to hear such valuable advice coming from Rangiku. Usually it was hard to get such intelligent responses from her, it was always just a few words or more questioning, but this. "You need to talk to Renji first and get things straightened out. Then you can go to Ichigo. Tell them both the truth, how you really feel, then and only then will you be able to get things straightened out and keep it movin' girl!"

Ah, there's the real Rangiku, finally making her shine back in. "Should I...do it now?"

Rangiku nodded, she turned to take Rukia's cellphone from the ground and disconnect it from it's charger, cradling it gently in her hand, "It's better to do it now than later." She nodded, inhaling and exhaling in preparation. Her heart was racing so fast, her hand trembled, it got to the point where looking for a phone number became a huge feat. She selected Renji from her contacts section, and pressed the phone to her ear.

"_Rukia?_" Renji groaned, obviously just waking up, "_Where are you? I need to tell you—_"

"We need to talk," Rukia snapped, "Right now...there's just a lot I need to get off my chest. I'll...be back soon..."


	17. Chapter 16

Oh, the trouble it took to arrive here, back to where Rukia started. Firstly, the problem of entering the complex without a code of card key to open the front gates, let alone the fact that Rukia kept shouting: "_Go back! I—I change my mind, I can't! It's embarrassing!_"_  
_

Finally, after several minutes of persuasion, or by the ways of Rangiku: _seduction_, she'd convinced the male officer to allow them through the gates debt free, and left Rukia wondering. Is there nothing a phony phone number and a little bit of pink lipstick _can't _do? She drove around the complex, building after building in her hot pink whip with music blaring lively to much of the residents disapproval, and to some's entertainment.

Rukia stretched over, slapping the button to the radio to set it mute and leaned back onto the leather interior with a heavy sigh, "I'm gonna be sick."

"It's okay girlfriend," Rangiku reassured her with her gum smacking and head nodding, "trust me. Situations like these are _always _embarrassing."

"You've been in these types of situations before?"

"Hell no," she scoffed, "just because I'm drunk ninety-nine percent of the time, doesn't mean _any _guy is gonna get an easy ride on _this _roller coaster. I'll kick someone's ass before I—"

"_Thanks, Ran_." Rukia sniped aggressively, she turned her head out the window and winced upon the car coming to a cease before a familiar building of room numbers, patting Rukia on the back, "Good luck. Go get 'im! I'll be right down here if you need me!" Rangiku smiled vivaciously and unlocked the car doors. Rukia swallowed, hard, and unbuckled her seat belt with unsteady fingers. She opened the car door which feels like it's added on about a thousand pounds to her weak arms, and stepped out slowly, allowing it to close by itself behind her.

She turned back to Rangiku; Rangiku held two thumbs up high in approval and waved. This was it.

It feels a lot slower than before, before when she had been rushing drastically to get to Rangiku's house, and now it's Renji's. She's steadily taking her time, in no hurry, up the flights of stairs and stopping at the top of each and every one of them. It felt as if they were never ending in fact.

Maybe this was a sign, she should go home. But that would be pointless.

Especially when she's already found herself standing before apartment door E-339 with her hand out to knock. Once.

Twice.

A third time, extra slowly. She squared her shoulders and held her breath, god this felt even worse than when she'd first arrived.

The door opened slowly with an eerie creaking until it had been fully pulled back with the unveiling of Renji, who stared at her wearing a look of _heavy _disapproval. "Hi," he said gruffly, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah," he opened the door furthermore to allow her access into his domain once again, it felt so uncomfortable. But had that really been fair to say? "Look," Rukia started with her back turned towards Renji. She grit her teeth and closed her eyes until finally, she spun around to face him, "We have to talk. About...what happened between us."

"Yeah," Renji nodded, crossing his arms across his broad, tattooed pectorals, "we do." She grimaced lightly with the sound of a soft melancholy exhale before speaking further to him in an unsteady tone, "I just want you to know, I want to stay friends. I...think."

"Uh—_huh_."

"And I don't want you to think poorly of me...ever though I deserve it. But I. I think we should just...stay just that. Friends. And forget ever...sleeping with each other. It was a stupid mistake. I'm sorry if I misguided you, Renji I—"

"You're right."

"_W—wha—?_"

Renji knitted his brows inquisitively atop his wrinkled forehead, why does he look so _confused _all of a sudden? "You really have _no idea _what happened last night, do you? You don't remember a thing, or anything you said to me?" He snorted, "Are you serious right now?"_  
_

"I have...no idea what you're talking about..." Rukia stuttered nervously. She clenched her fingers around each other in suspense while she watched Renji draw further and further away from him until he was on the other side of the room, with _his _back turned to her this time, "You don't remember? You came back last night in a _drunken rage_ because that job you were supposed to get was a complete blow. Then you started crying, then when I tried to comfort you, you...you just. I don't know, you just looked really upset. So I just, got a little dazed and wound up kissing you."

"_You—_" Rukia narrowed her eyes in bewilderment, "kissed _me_?"

"And then, it just got out of hand. Before I knew it, I let myself get to a point where there was no looking back and I regretted it. I felt like scum, garbage because I knew I was...taking advantage of you...I don't know what came over me. But then you started _crying_. _Crying_, you were crying so much and you kept...I don't know you kept mumbling someone's name. '_Ichiro_' or something—"

_Holy— shit_. Rukia's eyes widened to the size of hubcaps, and her skin flushed of all it's color except red which washed over every inch of it. If she thought the heat _outside _was unbearable...

"Y—you..." she breathed unsteadily now, rasping after every other word— every other syllable, "you took advantage of me."

"Well— yes, but I—!"

"You _knew _I was drunk," she ground out assertively, "you _knew _I was upset— and yet you— you—"

"I swear I didn't mean—"

"_And the phone calls_," Rukia's eyes widened even further, and she gasped in sudden recollection, "the _phone calls_! Rangiku said— she said she called! She called so much your number is the only thing in her history, and you never _told me? _Was _that _an accident too—?"

"I was trying to _protect_ you!" Renji blurted out in self defense, "You were upset with her, and you, I— I was just trying to—"

"You _lied _to me!"

It's official.

Rukia Kuchiki has left the building, with nothing left but a she-demon to take her place.

"You lied to _her_! You told her you had_ no idea_ where I was, you never told me she called! You made it seem like she didn't give a damn— I thought she _hated _me! You lied to keep me here, and then you— you _used __me_! _Ah_! Oh my god— you're no better than..."

_I can't believe I let it happen to me twice_.

"Rukia, just calm down for a minute," Renji insisted with his hands on her shoulders, "just take it easy. I'm trying to _sincerely_ apologize to you."

"You think an _apology_ is going to make it better?" Rukia scoffed and nudged his hands away, taking several steps backwards, "I can't believe you. I...I trusted you, I thought— holy _shit_. Is _anyone _trustworthy anymore? Is everyone out to just—break me to pieces bit by bit? It feels like I'm losing— no! I've _already lost _my mind with all of this...this..."

"Rukia—"

"Don't." She tore away from him, further and further aback until she'd pressed herself tightly against the back of the door. Her hand searched for the cold metal of the doorknob and grasped it tightly, twisting and turning until the door finally creaked along its hinges.

She left without another word, enclosing Renji back in his lonely apartment filled with dread and regret. Hopelessness, and betrayal.

Engulfed in the melancholy black, for his white light has burned out and left.

xx

The doorstep of Rangiku Matsumoto's apartment had been occupied by one man, and he knocked nervously only four times before realizing her absence. He sighed dolefully, though he only _half _hoped she wouldn't be there, to save him the opportunity of making a complete fool of himself. He didn't know what to expect, really.

He'd just hoped that. _Nevermind_.

The blackening feeling of hopelessness clung to him once more, following in his caliginous shadow. Step by hardening dreadful step he descended further down the flights of stairs that led up to his vacant destination and grunted. With his hands in the pockets of his denim jeans, and his orange locks falling and jumping with every movement over his weary face.

He hasn't seen her in days. He hasn't heard her, in _days_. Just once did he want to hear the sound of her voice— whether it was to pester him about something, or _whatever_.

It didn't matter to him at this point. The absence of her overall simply put him down further into the nebulous hole of his anguish. As he steps out into the opening, away from the building, the tip of his shoe is struck with a tiny bead of moisture, which splatters on contact. He looks to the graying sky with dim eyes, and his cheek is hit next. Oh the irony of having rainfall at a time where he's hit his ultimate low, rock bottom for Ichigo had indeed been gloomy and filled with tribulation and woe.

His own despondency kept him from being in any hurry to escape the dolor weather, despite the gnarling fact that he hated _rain_.

Perhaps this is an act of god? Angels are weeping in pity for Ichigo Kurosaki and all of his lost hopes, all of his lost inhibitions. All of them. Gone. Soaking wet, he slid into his car, closing the door and stabbing the key in the ignition without turning it. Without moving. Only a moment of complete palatalization, before he finally gave it the twist it needed to initiate the ferocious roar his engine excitedly exerted. He sighed woefully, and looking back over his shoulder for clearance to back out from his parking space, he plopped his head back against his chair.

The journey home felt as if it took hours rather than 30 minutes, plus a few red light stops and idiotic drivers who couldn't for the life of them make a speedy turn, and upon arrival he still felt the cold— _icy _wave of abjection, gradually running through him. Maybe it's because his clothes are soaked, and he neglected to activate his seat warmers.

All he knew was that he'd pulled up into the resident's parking lot and found that same damn little red car in _his _parking spot, and for some reason, it hadn't bugged him as much. He'll just park someplace else.

That little lady bug of a vehicle wins this round.

_For now_.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kurosaki! Hey! _Did you get a haircut_?" The security guard behind the front desk greeted, with a tip of the hat and a joke he found more humorous to himself than to Ichigo. He'd been eating something, something that looked...quite familiar. "Did...did Yuzu drop by by any chance?"

"_Hm_?" The man greedily inhaling the pastry in his hand swallowed his mouthful before speaking, "Ah, why yes! She dropped by to visit, but I told her you hadn't been home. She said somethin'...oh right! She wanted me to tell you she's sorry, then she gave me these cream puffs! What an angel, huh? I wish my wife could bake this good!"

He didn't know whether to find that complimenting, or just plain _creepy_. Nonetheless, Ichigo nodded his head in understanding, swiping his keycard across the wall scanner and opened the glass door after his approval, "Thanks a lot."

"No problem," the security guard smiled, and he turned his attention back to the plethora of monitors sitting before him.

Ichigo trailed down the short hallway to turn the corner which would bring him to the elevators and god forbid— he's stumbled upon a pretty woman, standing before one of them. She flashed him a quick smile, and he just barely smirked back before running his hand through his wet locks and standing feet across from her, as they both waited.

The machine _dinged_; and opened it's reflective doors to allow them entrance to the rising and falling box. He allowed her to enter first, "_Thank you_," she said. He nodded, and walked in behind her. She pressed the round button with the number "8" with a red painted fingernail, and her pressed the very top of the group of buttons, the penthouse suite button. "Penthouse, huh?" The woman giggled prettily. "_Yep_."

"Must be pretty nice..."

"_Mhm_."

Silence. She stood uncomfortably beside him, taking a single side step to increase their distance away from each other. Ichigo just stood, with his hands in his pockets, nodding slightly to the cheesy elevator music until they arrived at the 8th floor. Where the woman stepped out, sort of rushed actually, maybe he creeped her out which was odd considering how good he is with women.

Oh well. He didn't care. He just waited for the door to close—

Until _another _woman stepped inside. This one taller, and bustier than the last. She had short brown hair, and iridescent eyes that seemed to shift between blue and gray and hazy green. She turned to him, curving her red lips into the smile of a seductress. He paid her no attention. Not even to her exposed cleavage, not even when she _slowly _moved to press the "15th floor" button.

"_I've never seen you around here_," she said. Her voice smoldered in his ears for a few seconds before deteriorating into nothing more but ashes and smoke. "I don't socialize very often."

"I see," she smirked. What the hell was she smiling at? Was it something he said? Maybe it was the hair, he'd only let it grow maybe an inch or two longer, but it could've been what's getting him so much attention. She shifted in a way that seemed uncomfortable and cleared her throat, pushing locks of brunette behind her ear, and glancing at the illuminated penthouse button. "_Penthouse, huh_?"

"_Yes_," Ichigo strained, with a sort of irritation in his voice from being given the same, '_penthouse, huh_' spiel once again. She nodded and smacked her lips once in the silence, doing just as the woman before her had done, rushing off of the elevator once it arrived on her floor.

This time Ichigo smashed the "_close doors_" button with his finger mercilessly, until the doors finally slid shut.

God the elevator was moving unbearably slow today, he tapped his foot in impatience. So help him god it makes another stop for _anyone _else. Beautiful woman or not. Anybody. So help him god.

Finally he'd made it, to the presence of his domain. To the door of his lonesomeness of his one man palace, his bachelor pad, his— really depressing apartment. He slide the key in, and snatched it out, the light on the door flickering bright green in approval and the lock clicking unlocked. It hadn't been a second more after he stepped in that his cellphone vibrated furiously in his pocket, and without looking at the I.D. of his caller he answered, "_Yeah?_"

"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime's voice rang bells of angels into the phone, "_Inoue_?" He questioned in surprise.

"Hi! How are you?" She chirped. Ichigo tossed his key, and his wallet, on the coffee table and began scratching his scalp, "Umm. I'm. Doing well. And yourself?"

"Uryuu asked that I call you! He said you were feeling sick, and asked that I share some _Inoue remedies _passed down throughout my family, with you!"

_Fucking Uryuu_. After the fish oil thing, Ichigo was more than _positive _any other "Inoue remedy" couldn't be any better, "That's not necessary Inoue. Really."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. _Believe me_."

"Well, suit yourself then!" Orihime exclaimed lively, "I hope you make it to my baby shower! It isn't soon, I mean. But Uryuu and I have decided that once we find out what it is, we're gonna throw a shower—"

"I'd love to come, wouldn't miss it for the world, I have to go though. I'm a little busy. It was nice hearing from you, Inoue. Glad you're doing well."

"Oh alright. Bye, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo ended the call, shaking his head to assess the situation he had so randomly been put in only a second ago. Why do beautiful women insist on talking to him today?

It _must be _the hair. No doubt about it.

Women love hair.

xx

"Drop me off here, Ran." Rukia demanded though quietly and followed with a sigh. "You sure 'bout that? It's raining pretty bad, and—"

"I'll take the bus home. I just need a little time by myself. I'll be home, I promise."

Rangiku hesitated, but obeyed as she pulled along the curb of the corner cafe Rukia requested to be left off at. The same corner cafe she and Ichigo first met at, the same corner cafe where Momo worked. The same corner cafe she _always _came back to for the sake of memories and mental solitude. She left from the car and closed the door, she didn't dare to look back at Rangiku. Instead she walked across the sidewalk and into the store.

And for some reason, it lacked the warmth and sweet smell she was used to. She glanced back, to find Rangiku's car gone and the curb now empty. Pushing her fingers through her wet hair and closing her eyes, "Ah, Rukia." Momo's familiar voice and it's warmth came along to greet her in the door, "Good to see you safe again!"

"Hey, Momo." Rukia greeted back, dreadfully. "How are you?"

"Oh— well, actually I'm about to leave. My shift's over, but," Momo smiled softly at Rukia, "you look like you could use a friend to talk to."

Two tall cappuccinos and a table by the window later, Rukia and Momo sit across from one another conversing casually. Rukia laughs shortly at a joke Momo heard from one of her co-workers, which she shares graciously, and then dies down back into a grim _glop_. "Hey," Momo said, catching her attention once more, "you okay? Did you go see Rangiku?"

"Yeah," Rukia nodded.

"Was she happy to see you?"

"_Oh _yeah."

"How about you and Renji—?"

"What about us?" Rukia snapped, taking a defensive tone in her voice. Momo winced in surprise, "N—nothing. I was just..."

"_Sorry_," she sighed, "I'd just really not like to talk about. Him. For a while."

"I see."

Minutes turned to hours until closing time and the women sat chatting with empty cappuccino cups and in the dimmed lights, Momo yawned loudly and stretched her arms out to her sides. "_Hinamori_," a wolfish and gruff sound emitted from the shadowy dark. Momo turned, it was her manager, Sosuke Aizen, "We're about to close up. You and your friend will have to go in a few minutes."

"Ah! Yes Mr. Aizen-sama." Momo said, and smiled. He turned his back towards the two, walking out the double doors and opening his umbrella outside, and Momo watched him from the window, until he disappeared from her sights and into his black car. She looked sort of whimsical as she did so, with her head resting on her hand and her elbow on the table. She'd hardly realized Rukia was calling her name— "_Momo!_"

"Huh!?"

"Jeez," Rukia laughed, "thought I'd lost you there for a second."

"Oh! Gosh, I'm sorry Rukia! It's just that...well, nevermind. You wouldn't understand." Momo sighed as she descended down from her trance, "Well I mean. I don't _think _you would."

"Try me," Rukia challenged. Momo shifted in her chair, now resting both her arms on the table top and beginning, "Have you ever just been..._attracted _to someone you're not supposed to be attracted to? Not _just_ sexually, but. Emotionally. It's like an attachment that everyone else disagrees with, but you just don't care because...you just admire that person." Rukia's eyes widened, and she turned her gaze away to escape any suspicious Momo might come up with if she'd seen her expression of shock. It's just that, she's never felt like she'd been related to so well before. "And when they're away for too long, they're literally all you can think about. It's like a tiny obsession. Or a, silent cry to be near them again. Longer...ah jeez," Momo laughed, slapping her hand to her forehead, "I probably sound like a creep right? What am I saying? I'm probably just really tired—"

"I understand," Rukia blustered. She looked down into her empty cup, squeezing it in both her hands until it concaved, "I...know exactly what you're feeling."

"You do? Really?" Momo blinked in awe, "Wow. I thought I was really going for a long shot with that one."

"I have to go," Rukia jumped up from the table rather quickly, "I hope you don't mind. There's someone I have to meet before it gets too late in the evening." Momo rose from her seat as well and disposed of her cup in the garbage, "Not at all. Go ahead, I have to stay to lock up since I'm the last person here. You take care of yourself, Rukia!"

She waved farewell to Rukia from the window, and Rukia waved back. In the rain, she looked both ways up and down the street and crossed it hurriedly without guidance from a crosswalk or any kind for that matter. She shot down to the bus stop and took shelter beneath its covering, away from the rain. Awaiting the bus in this horrid weather.

Fifteen minutes later, her patience is not in vain. The bus arrives, opening its doors for passengers unloading and coming on. She paid the fee, taking the very first seat and tapping her feet on the ground in impatience as the door _slowly _closes shut.

The drive is painstakingly long, brutal almost, she probably would've _been there _already if she had just gone on foot—

In fact. She jumped out at the first stop, though it was a sort of ways from where she'd needed to be, she had already made up in her mind that she would get there _her _way.

Assume position, Rukia Kuchiki.

Years developing skills from running on the track and meet team in high school would come to use especially today, as she crouched down and took runner's position with one leg extended out behind her and the other, knee bent. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, exhaling from her mouth. Slowly.

Shooting off bullet quick down the pavement, despite the crazy looks, and the passerbys barely dodging her velocity, Rukia ran. She ran and ran and splashed the water beneath her feet into tiny tsunamis and jumped over dogs and people crouching to tie their shoes like hurdles. She ran past a group of teens, they turned to cheer her on with loud _whooping _and clapping, as if they were witnessing an Olympic event in the making.

The bus is _far _a ways behind her, and in the distance she can hear voices crying: "_Go, go, go!_"

The possibility of slipping and falling had not yet crossed her mind, it would when it became an issue however, at the speed she was running it was assured that she'd simply glide across the wet surface of the ground problem free. She ran fast, faster than she'd ran to Rangiku's apartment.

Faster than she'd ran on the track and meet team in high school. Faster than she'd ran from— those _douche bag geese_ that'd chased her across the park once when she younger, maybe. _Maybe_. She cut through the rain like a knife through solid until she reached the lot in which Ichigo lived, and her eyes escalated the tall building. _Made it_.

In only 7 minutes and 45 seconds. She pressed her index and middle finger to her neck to feel her drumming heart beat, she could've done better, she thought. Rukia infiltrated the building, soaking wet and rasping hard _completely _opposite of the calm in through your nose, out through your mouth breathing she was taught. The security guard eyeballed her with extra inquisitiveness, "Yes ma'am? Do you live here?"

Rukia swallowed, regaining her calm composure, "_I'm here to see Ichigo Kurosaki_."

"Is he expecting you?" He questioned. Rukia shook her head, "_Please_. It's really important that I—"

"_Say_," the man narrowed his eyes into thin impeccable lines, "aren't you his housekeeper?"

"Y—yeah! I forgot my key, you see! I'm really sorry to cause you any trouble...but would you please do me this _one favor_?" She stared at him with begging amethyst eyes, "_Open the door?_" The man sighed in defeat, scratching his head beneath the cap for several seconds, "Aw. Alright! But you can't let _anyone _know—"

"Thank you! Thank you _so _much!" Rukia swiveled quickly to the door and bounced eagerly at its entrance. The wall scanner flickered green, and the lock on the door unlocked to grant her access. She threw the guard one last _thank you so much_, and a farewell after that, running the short hall and nearly crashing into the wall before she caught herself and cut around the corner to the elevators.

She stabbed the button with her finger, so much so that its joints cracked, until the doors opened, slowly. Sliding between the thin crack it made before it could fully open, she enclosed herself in the elevator, pressing the "_close_ _doors_"button. "C'mon, come ooooooon!" She moaned, ceremoniously pressing the penthouse button with her whole palm. Luckily she had been alone in the elevator, otherwise she would've most likely frightened any other passengers.

All this running, all this hurrying, and she had absolutely no idea what she'd say to him. When he opened the door, when he confronted her— what would she say?

The elevator rang. The doors glide open, and before she could develop an answer, her body carried her to the door of Ichigo's apartment. She approached it, rapidly, halting before it, throwing up her fist to knock and—

Coming to a complete stand still.

With quivering hands, she unballed her fist and placed the pads of her fingers against the cool wood. "_I can't do it,_" she whispered. Pressing her forehead against the door. All of this, for nothing? Is it really for nothing?

"_Dammit..._" Her body cringed painfully, her adrenaline rush weakened, and the tightness in her legs and stomach threw her into a crippling pain tenfold. Unconsciously, she slammed her fist into the door, in a fit of rage at herself and her inward frustration. "_Is this really it,_" she cried, "_is this really all I've got—_"

The door opened, so quickly it hadn't given her time to lift up from it before she fell in. Fell inside Ichigo's apartment.

And fell straight, into Ichigo.

He caught her by the arms, feeling the wetness of her skin and hair dampen his shirt before she lifted up from him and stared, speechless. Awe stricken by the feeling of their eyes connecting for the first time since the beach, it sent chills _crashing _down one another's spines. Rukia parted her trembling lips, "_Hi_," she breathed out.

Ichigo swallowed and blinked several times before responding in the same shaken voice, "_H—hi_."

Silence. He only stood there, holding Rukia by the arms, and she only stood being held and _staring _at him. "You're...you're soaking wet."

"Yeah," she nodded, "I...I uh. I ran. Here."

"Um," Ichigo cleared his throat loudly, "come in...I'll get you a towel to...dry...yourself."

She obediently stepped further into his apartment, letting the door close gently behind them. Standing in the center of his tile floor kitchen, holding herself by the arms and chewing on her own lip. "You can...come upstairs. If you want. Y'know."

"I don't wanna get the carpet wet," she said in retaliation. Ichigo pressed his lips tightly together and parted them once more with slim hesitation, "_I don't care_."

For some reason to her, that sounded more like an invitation than a statement. She followed him up the stairs, into his room where he'd disappeared inside of his bathroom, rustling for a towel in the cabinet for a moment. He handed it to her, gently, and she took it, wrapping it around her head and rubbing the wetness from her locks. Ichigo choked down the saliva in his mouth and looked down to his feet to escape her gaze, "I'll...go make you some coffee."

"I hate coffee," Rukia mumbled, "remember?"

"_Right_."

Silence.

Ichigo gradually rose his stare up from his carpet to meet with hers, watching Rukia's cheeks flushs colors and she looked away. She looked back up at him hesitantly, ceasing the movement of the towel in her hair and dropping her hands down to tug on the ends of it. They stared for several seconds at one another in an articulate way that seemed to last forever as his hot ambers sizzled and melted into her cool blues, in a sensation they both wished would never end. Ichigo gradually bended, bringing himself closer and more specifically— his face closer to hers.

She didn't pull away. She didn't detest his actions, instead she stood awaiting his warmth with eyes half lidded— "_Wait_," Rukia suddenly whispered quietly. Ichigo paused, his mouth only centimeters from hers, she could feel his warm breath rolling off her cracked lips endlessly, "_We're both exhausted...my lips are chapped...and if we kissed now, it wouldn't be good._"

Her words going unheeded, he pressed his lips against hers gently at first, pulling away to suck in a heavy breath of air, "_Did that feel bad?_" He whispered wolfishly. Rukia shook her head, "_It was too fast. I couldn't...tell..._" He kissed her once more, only this one had been longer with a bit more force behind it. His hand cupped her burning cheek tenderly, and he broke their kiss for the _second _time now.

"_Now?_"

"_One more time._"

He held her delicately by the face in both his hands as their lips locked in a heated embrace. Her arms locked around his torso, and he pulled back to ask—

Screw asking. Rukia threw her arm around this stubborn man's neck, and _held him there_. She kissed him and kissed him and not even for a moment did she give him freedom of his lips. The towel slid from her head and unto the ground at her heels, his arms snaked around her soaked body and compacted her tightly against his own.

She stumbled backwards as he pushed her, shoving her over the edge of his bed with the force of his body and not once did he let up. Not once did he uncoil from around her, he rolled over atop his mattress top and with Rukia wound tightly in his masculine, secure arms. He didn't care if he got his sheets soaked.

He didn't care if she got _him _soaked or sick.

He only kissed her and _squeezed_ her, and not once did either one of them let up in their hold. Not once did either one of them let go. For the time being, they'd stay like this— and they would hope, that the time being would last all night.

Forever in each other's arms.


	18. Chapter 17

Rays of sunlight penetrated through thin spaces between Ichigo's blinds, piercing into the dimness of his bedroom where Rukia moaned, exhausted. She rolled over on his bed, flattening her arm down on what _would've _been Ichigo.

_If he were there_.

One eye pops open, scanning her surroundings in curiosity. The empty space in Ichigo's bed left her in a daze of cluelessness. Had he gone to the restroom?

She stretched her legs, placing her feet down on the carpet and standing. Her body felt suspiciously underclothed—

Which it was, she discovered, when she looked down to find herself dressed loosely in one of Ichigo's expensive button-up collared shirts, unbuttoned. Another strike of confusion for Rukia Kuchiki. "Ichigo," she called out inquisitively as she poked her head in the bathroom. Nothing.

He wasn't there.

Rukia sighed in defeat, pushing open his bedroom door and starting down the stairs, buttoning her shirt up from the bottom when she realized...she felt _nothing_. She patted her thighs, nothing. No numbness, no soreness or sensitivity or tenderness that would _always _come after their acts of lust. She felt _fine_. Continuing down the stairs, running her fingers through her wavy hair and—

Gasping in absolute shock when she finds Ichigo in his kitchen. He dries his hands carefully with a dish towel and looks to her, "Good morning."

"Good..." Rukia squinted thoughtfully, "_morning._"

Casual. That's what this was— besides the fact she was wearing his clothes, woke up in his bed, and is now dumbly roaming his house in bewilderment. She watched his every move carefully, as he walked away from the sink leaving freshly cleaned dishes in the dish drying rack. As he approached his refrigerator, and took out a gallon of orange juice which he twisted the cap from, and poured himself a glass. And then coughed, "No coffee this morning?" Rukia questioned. "You hate coffee," Ichigo replied.

"Yeah, but. _You_ don't."

"I think I caught your _ick_," he sneered smugly and sniffled. Rukia laughed under her breath and rolled the sleeves of the shirt she wore up, "Where...are my clothes?"

"I put them in the washing machine, and the dryer." Ichigo, taking a sip from his cup of orange juice, shifted his gaze elsewhere to escape hers, "you can go and check to see if they're dry. I didn't want you getting sick, so."

"_Oh_," Rukia blinked, "so...you took them off me? When did you—"

"You fell asleep."

Creepy. He realized this only seconds after he'd said it and held back the urge to chuckle at himself discreetly. Rukia nodded her head slowly, staring down at her toes which she curled and uncurled to pull up fibers from the dark carpet, "Ichigo...did we...? Um."

"No."

She shot her eyes back up to him, "_No_?"

"Nope."

"Was it...because I was tired...?"

"Because I didn't want to have _sex_," Ichigo grumbled in irritation, "I wasn't thinking about it. I was only...glad to see you again." Rukia smiled gingerly and cupped her pinkening cheeks in her hands, "_You idiot..._" she mumbled inaudibly. Ichigo hid his face behind his glass, but she could tell her was blushing, probably more than she had been. He took another larger gulp and clacked the glass down on the kitchen island. Silence. "Look. I'm sorry for—"

"It was a misunderstanding." He interrupted her with swift abruptness, "I should be the one apologizing. I should've told you sooner. Maybe then...we wouldn't have gone through this big mess."

"Told me? Told me what?"

"That the woman you saw me with on the beach was a friend of my sisters," he explained, "she's also someone I knew in high school. Well, not _knew_. I just saved her ass once, from some jerk. I have no idea why she was so glad to see me though. It's not like we ever spoke as friends or anything."

"Ah," Rukia breathed, "ok then."

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

Ichigo rounded the corner of the kitchen island with a suspicious approach to Rukia, "_Why_?"

Why? Why of all questions would he ask _why_? Rukia swallowed hard, parting her lips to catch air rather than speak but she managed to unscramble her brain long enough to push out few words, "_Because I trust you_." Ichigo flinched, narrowing his eyes thinly at her, "If you trust me...then why did you get the wrong idea about Nel and I?"

"Because, I didn't know for sure..."

"Didn't know _what_?"

"I—I don't know!"

"You're not making any sense, Kuchiki," he retorted harshly, "maybe you _are _sick."

"Why are you doing this!?" Rukia blurted. She backed away several inches from Ichigo and crippled forward, "Why are you messing with my head!?"

"Because I want you to say it," Ichigo replied simply and shortly. He came closer to her on cautious foot, slowly, inch after painstakingly slow inch, "_say it_."

"I...I was _jealous_! Okay!?"

"_Why_?"

"Because— because I thought she was your _girlfriend_! I thought you were using me for your own sexual pleasure, like I was some little _sex toy_! I thought...I thought you...didn't care about me. The way I care about you." She looked down to her toes anxiously pulling up fibers from the carpet to avert his intense stare, her face darkening into a rosy pink hue. Ichigo pushed her moist locks of midnight past her ear and held it behind her face as he supported her head back up to look at him. Her heated cheek resting in his big warm palm. She grazed the skin of his wrist with her nails and tilted her head, "_Idiot._"

"_You're _the only idiot I see here," Ichigo chuckled. He pulled her into his secure embrace, and rested his chin on top of her head, "How could I _not_ care about you? Then again, I guess I always did have a _fucked up _way of showing it didn't I?"

"_Hmmm,_" Rukia mumbled with her face buried in his chest. She tilted her head up and blinked curiously, "Showing what?"

"Showing that_ I love you_." Ichigo murmured softly. Rukia's eyes widened in appall, and she drew from him. She pulled off from him so much so that their body's disconnected and she stood only a few inches apart from him with his arms still gently grasping hers, "You..._what_?"

_Shit_, he cursed inwardly. Perhaps he'd come too clean too fast and too hard for her, or perhaps she simply hadn't felt the same. Whichever one, he felt dumber now than he had ever felt with Yoruichi. He stared intensively at her, studying her expression. She didn't seem angry, or upset. Or even confused. Her face read more _shocked _than any other expression, and he repeated in hushed tone, "_I love you_." He swallowed nervously and inhaled sharply, "Do you love me too?"

"Wha...I...I don't...know," Rukia stammered, "I don't know."

"_What do you know_?" Ichigo choked out, his heart thumping painfully. Just looking at him, she could tell that above all— he was hurt. Of course, he had expected more from her, for her to say '_I love you too_' and he could be happy for once. Instead she slipped further aback from him, back away until she was out of his reach, "I...I have to go. My roommate. I told her I would be home yesterday. She's probably worried."

She disappeared from his sight to collect her things from the laundry room where he said they'd been, and she robed herself the quickest she's ever dressed in her entire life. _I have to get out of here_, she folded Ichigo's shirt into a neat square and placed it on his bed, hurrying back out of his bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Past Ichigo, and past the living room where he stood, she rushed by and to the front door where she opened and closed it with heavily without another word. A farewell, or a confession— or _anything _he'd been looking forward to. Instead he stood, cold all over again, in the silence of his home with his head down and a soft woeful sigh.

_I opened up...and she rejected me._

-xx-

"Orihimeee! I'm off to work, okay?" Uryuu called out to Orihime from downstairs, as he righted his dark blue necktie around the collar of his shirt. Orihime rushed down the stairs, as quickly as a pregnant woman could move that is, "What? Already!?"

"Huh?"

"But you just woke up," She whined childishly, wrapping her hands around her slightly extended belly, "don't you want to stay for a minute?"

"Honey, you know I'd love to. More than anything I would," Uryuu sighed, "but I can't stay home if I want to keep a job to support our baby! Right?" He leaned forward and kissed her delicately on the forehead, "Just think. In two more months, we'll be able to confirm our baby's gender once and for all!"

"Uryuu," Orihime groaned, "I'm only two months pregnant."

"_Really_?" He questioned in disbelief as he began to ceremoniously grope her protruding stomach, "_Damn_, you're showing." She opened her mouth in shock, inhaling, about to possibly _curse _him for his playful ignorance, but Uryuu kissed her on the lips and turned away before she could, "I'll see you later, babies! Bye bye!"

And with that he swung out the door, closing it softly behind him and leaving Orihime in the doorway with her hands on her hips and a look of indiscretion on her face.


	19. Chapter 18

"Karin!" Yuzu blurted. Karin lifted off the couch in a heavy daze, and with a loud pained groan of grimace, "_What_?"

"You came home last night and fell asleep on the couch!? We planned this! First thing when you come back, we're supposed to go and visit big brother!"

"It's called jet-lag, Yu..._zu_!" She belched loudly, slapping her hand over her mouth and exhaling jaggedly, "_I don't feel so good..._" Silence. Over the sound of Karin's stomach gurgling, Yuzu could hear her strained retch, and the _more _of the undelightful gurgles. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Not on the couch, _god not on the couch!_"

Karin jolted up from the couch, rushing to the bathroom with both hands over her mouth. Yuzu rushed to the kitchen to grab the broom and followed in a hurried pursuit, "Make it to the bathroom! Go— go, go, go!" She cried the mantra as if her very life depended on it, watching as Karin burst through the bathroom door and fell to her knees in front of the toilet. The horrid sound of liquid hitting liquid and Karin's insurmountable gagging filled the house with it's atrocious horror. Yuzu stood in the doorway, a distance away from Karin, with the broom held tightly to her body.

"Are...are you o—"

_Again_, Karin began to vomit violently into the toilet bowl before answering Yuzu's half-question. Yuzu nodded her head in understanding, "Nope, guess not." Several seconds afterwards, Karin rose up from the toilet's bowl, the dark purple heavy bags under her eyes and the paleness of her face almost scared Yuzu. "_I feel like shit..._" she wailed woefully, and retched. Diving her head back _into _the toilet.

"_Shhh, there there,_" Yuzu said softly, "everything's gonna be alright." She began delicately petting, caressing Karin's back with the bristles of the broom, as if _that _would do her any comfort. Karin only groaned loudly, her sound echoing off the porcelain walls of the toilet's bowl. "Get too drunk maybe? You didn't bring back some foreign American disease did you?"

"_I'm a Dj, not a plague rat_."

"Just saying, just saying."

"No," Karin sniffled painfully as she fell to her side beside the toilet, "I think I'm sick...I feel awful..."

"You _think _you're sick?" Yuzu ground out softly, "Maybe you should get some rest..."

"Yeah," Karin agreed as she stretched out across the bathroom floor, burying her face in the soft fibers of the sink's rug. Yuzu nodded her head slowly and grasped the door's cold bronze knob, "_Al—right_, if that's...what you want then...sweet dreams." She closed Karin in the bathroom, alone, turning back and heading down the hallway with her broom held a distance out away from her body.

She hated when Karin got sick. Especially around her. Now was the time, she decided. Gloving her hands, and covering her mouth and nose with a medical mask, she goggled herself with scuba diving goggles and took hold of several spray bottles and brushes. Arming herself with an entire box of plastic wrap, she came around into the living room, in front of the couch where Karin had been resting, and stared deadpanned on it for several seconds. "_Looks like it's just you...and me_." She said menacingly, delivering a threatening _spritz _from one of the spray bottles into the air above the couch.

Ichigo will have to wait. Because _this_.

This, means _war_, in the Kurosaki house.

-xx-

"You didn't tell him?" Rangiku asked softly. She sat on the opposite side of the coffee table, cross legged with her hand wrapped around an ice cold glass of tea as she chatted with Rukia. "No. I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth..." Rukia retorted shamefully. She sighed, and stared at the liquid drops of condensation on the outside of her glass, slipping down to the coffee table's top and seeping beneath the glass itself.

"You know what your life sounds like? One of those really shitty drama tv-shows. About the girl who lost her way, or something like that. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones where there's always some stupid female running back and forth between men she loves and she can't decide who she loves more, until she'd betrayed by one of them, but she still can't confess her true feelings to the guy she _really _loves—"

"Thanks, Ran."

"I'm just sayin'."

"_Damn..._" Rukia leaned forward, resting her head on the cool glass of the living room coffee table, "what do I do now?"

"Tell him the truth," Rangiku said simply, taking a sip from her glass. Rukia jolted back up and glared intensely at her. She shrugged, "What else _can _you do? Everything that could _possibly _happen has already happened. It's the end of the script Rukia—"

"This is real life, Ran. Not some shitty _drama_. And what am I going to tell him? '_I think I love you back, oh, but I'm unsure because of your past with women and I don't want to get played or used like some other little fling you've had in the past_'?"

"_Ooh, Playboy!_"

"This isn't funny, Ran."

"Either way, it's the same story and the same background development. Rukia, the guy _confessed_. What more do you want him to do for you? The way you explained it, it sounds like he's already done every damn thing he can _for _you. If you love him too, why not just tell him? I mean, honestly. Give him a break!"

"_Dammiiiit_!"

"What? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I feel terrible!" Rukia cried. She fell to her side and curled up into a ball with her knees pulled up to her chest. Rangiku looked beneath the glass top of the table, and narrowed her eyes at her thinly, "Rukia, what are you doing? You look ridiculous."

"I'm sulking."

"Not under _my _table." She slipped down to the ground beside Rukia and sighed heavily, "You need to go back there and tell him what's up. Really. What's _really _what's up. The longer you avoid him, y'know the more difficult it's gonna be between you two." Rukia rolled her eyes, she hated when Rangiku was right. She especially hated when Rangiku was right about _these types of situations_. She buried her face in the carpet and howled in despair, turning her head to face her one last time, "I haven't been entirely honest with you, Rangiku."

_Rangiku_. This time she _knew _it was serious, when nicknames were thrown out the window. Rangiku propped her head up in the palm of her hand and raised a curious blonde brow, "I'm listening."

"The guy I'm telling you about..." Rukia began, getting quieter and quieter with each word, "_he's my boss_."

_Crack_! Rangiku knocked her head _hard _on the underside of the glass table in her dramatic attempt to jump up. Rukia vaulted up from her lying position to sit up straight and watch her cripple in pain as she stood to her feet holding her head, "A—are you okay, Ran!?"

"_H—oly—_" Rangiku rasped with eyes wide as hub caps. Her lips were parted in the capital _O _shape as she swung around, walking around the couch and back again in front of Rukia,"Your _boss_? You've been having sex with your _boss_? You—you're in love with your _boss_!?"

This is why she waited so long to tell her, which in retrospect, was probably not such a good idea. Rangiku fell back down to the ground in criss-cross position with her legs crossed and her hands on the table, "How long has it been like this!?"

"_Remember when you bought me those 'kawaii-maid' accessories that one time..._?"

"Rukia! That was _months _ago!" Rangiku stressed the seriousness of her statement, "_Why _is it taking you this long to tell me!?"

"I was afraid you would judge me."

"You _idiot_—" She hissed venomously, "you're my _best friend_! _Duh_, I'm going to judge you— but what did you think I would look at you differently? Everybody does things they're not proud of, Rukia. Everybody has judging eyes, and everyone _gets _judged, it isn't something you can control or avoid, people are judging you _every day_!" Rangiku sighed at the end of her rambling on. She took her head to the palms of her hands and massaged it delicately, "You're a real piece o' work Kuchiki... You know, I _knew _something was up with you since you took this job. You've changed, you're almost _weaker _than you were when I met you. You know when we first met, I thought you were the strongest woman I'd ever known. But _now_? I can barely say that. But I can't blame you, y'know why? People change when they fall in love. "

_People change when they fall in... _Rukia gasped in realization.

How could she have not realized it sooner!?

"People change when they...fall in love!" She repeated softly, a sly smile crossing her face, "_ah_. I guess I really am clueless..."

"What?" Rangiku questioned. Rukia collected herself, standing to her feet and stretching her hands high up to the ceiling, "You goin' to tell him now?"

"How can I? I just left him in a hurry, there's no way I can go back there today. He probably hates me right now, I know _I _would." She murmured softly scratching the cloth of her shirt in thought as she glanced out the living room window, "Tomorrow. For sure. I'll tell him tomorrow."

-xx-

Uryuu swung around the door to his _self-claimed _office, also known as Ichigo Kurosaki's office. Inhaling the deep smell of plug-in wall air freshener and sighing. He swung his coat up onto one of the hooks of the coat rack and whistled a joyous sound as he strutted over to the desk, and past the small mirror hanging on the wall—_  
_

Pause.

He retraced his steps _back _into the way of the mirror on the wall and eyeballed himself keenly, "Damn. No wonder your wife loves you so much," he mumbled to himself as he toyed with the locks of his cobalt blue hair in front of his face. He squinted his eyes thinly, removing his glasses and pushing his hair back away from his face, "_Maybe it's time for that lasik surgery you've been thinking about, Ishida ol' chap..._"

"Mr. Ishida?"

Uryuu jumped at the frightful sound, a stray voice coming into the office— completely unannounced! It was Hanataro, standing, staring with a blank expression and a small box in his hand, "W—what is it Hanataro!?" He quickly straightened himself, placing his glasses back on his face and patting down his hair, adjusting his tie professionally. Hanataro held out the box, "It's a package. For Mr. Kurosaki!"

"Ichigo's not here."

"Oh..." Hanataro glanced around the office curiously, "So. Where would you like me to put it then, sir?"

Uryuu rolled his eyes in thought, swirling around the office with cobalt blue hues before stopping at the desk, "Just set it on the desk, Hanataro. I'll notify Ichigo of it whenever he decides he wants to come in."

"Has Mr. Kurosaki been sick?"

"_Very_," Uryuu stressed, "Thank you Hanataro." The young boy placed the box down carefully on the desks top and bowed respectfully to Uryuu before leaving him to his peace once again. Uryuu whipped back to the attention of the mirror and raised his brows, removing his frames once more. "...Or maybe contacts. Yeah. Contacts sound less laser-y. Gotta keep it fresh for your lady, Ishida. Gonna spice up her life with a whole new you—"

"Mr. Ishida?"

"_What— Hanataro!_" Uryuu cried in surprise once more, this time sloppily throwing his glasses back upon his face. In the doorway stood, not Hanataro, but a very startled and _very _confused Nanao Ise, with a stack of papers in her hand. "Uh...Hanataro...sir?"

"I'm sorry, Nanao. What is it?"

"There's a patient that'd like to speak to you. He said he knows you."

"A _patient_?" Uryuu questioned, "Who are they?"

"A mister..._Jeagerjaquez_, sir." Nanao said, pronouncing the surname as well as she could. Uryuu's eyes widened in interest, "Grimmjow!? I haven't seen that man since high school!" Uryuu hurriedly rushed out of the office with Nanao in pursuit of the patient's correct room, "Where is he?"

"Room 305 sir—"

"Grimm!" He called out, intruding into Grimmjow's hospital room. The man tore his attention away from the television and smirked wolfishly at Uryuu, "_Ishida_!"

"I could've sworn you were still in prison—"

"_Naw_," he fanned away Uryuu's _absurd _accusation, "I've been out for weeks now. Just keepin' a low profile 'cause y'know. Parole."

"How's life been treatin' ya, _Grimmy_?"

"Shitty. How 'bout you?"

"Married, having a little Uryuu in a little while! My wife's 2 months pregnant already, we don't actually know the baby's gender yet. Did I ever tell you about my wedding? Orihime and I have been doing _so _well lately—"

"Orihime? _Inoue_? Nawww." Grimmjow snorted. Uryuu blinked in confusion, "What?"

"Ain't no way in hell a hottie like Inoue goes for a guy like you. I'll be fucked two ways to Christmas before I let you let me believe that bullshit. _And _you knocked 'er up? You know that means you would've had to have _sex _right? _Naw_!"

Typical Grimmjow. Always the rude, spirit crushing jerk he's been since highschool— handsome though. Uryuu pressed his hands to his hips, shaking his head in denial before he broke into a smile and slapped Grimmjow hard on the chest, "'S good to see ya again, Grimm. What're ya here for?" Grimmjow's painful hissing meant obviously it was something in his chest or around the region, he growled in agony before rolling his eyes back and gripping his shoulder, "_I got shanked...in the big house...in my shoulder._ _N' I reopened the wound...ya bastard._"

"_Eugh!_" Uryuu shook his hand in disgust. Grimmjow laughed through the pain and shook his arm out, "So where's that asshole Kurosaki? It's his hospital right? Why i'nt he here?"

"He's _deathly ill_," Uryuu snorted sarcastically. Grimmjow wrinkled his nose in confusion, "How the fuck does a _doctor _get sick? Aren't you like, super humans er somethin'? Shit. You're the ones with all the remedies."

"We're all still human, Grimmjow."

"Shit happens, I guess," He murmured lowly before sighing and resting his head on the hospital bed's pillow, "Well, at least your morphine's good! Wake me up when Kurosaki comes around will ya...?"

Uryuu chuckled, shaking his head at his arrogant friend. He stood for a while in silence before turning and heading back to the door of the room to exit, cautious not to make a sound and wake the rambunctious fiend.

"_Thank you, Nanao,_" He whispered softly as he made it to the other side of the door where Nanao stood nervously with papers to her chest. She glanced to the left of her, then the right, and back deadpan on him, "Mr. Ishida. We've had many emails come in lately from a Mr. Granz at Karakura Busi—"

"Ignore them, Nanao."

"Is...Mr. Kurosaki...going to sell the hospital?" She questioned soft spokenly. Uryuu rolled his eyes with a shake of the head, "No. Ichigo's not going to sell his father's pride and jo because of a little bit of harassment. Don't worry about that one little bit."

"Okay..." She sighed in relief, "I was afraid for a moment he'd...silly me. Pardon if I sound crazy. I just would hate for Mr. Kurosaki to give away such an important thing. He's doing several people amazing favors with this hospital. I've never told him before but, he's a real life hero." With that she fled, after a respectful bow to Uryuu, back to her station behind the front desk with her clipboard in hand and an almost unnoticed pep in her step.

He unquestionably would've never thought to refer to Ichigo as such a thing, or give him such a high title. Another glance around the hospital, and he nodded his head in agreement of Nanao's statement, "I'll be sure to tell him that when he comes in," he spoke quietly to himself.


	20. Chapter 19

"_Sorry Ichigo! We couldn't come over today because Karin's about to throw up her own skeleton._"

_Karin's indescribably horrid retching resumes in the background._

"_So yeah...tomorrow for sure! Well...I mean...we'll see. Take care of yourself, big brother!_"

And that was the end to the voice mail left on Ichigo's phone. He almost found himself chuckling at Karin's misery— not in a twisted sadistic kind of way, but a humorous more...

No, no. It was _completely _sadistic. He excused the notification from his home screen and resumed business to dialing Yoruichi's number which he's recognized by heart now. Taking the phone to his ear and listening to the dial tone...

_Ring ring. "Pick up, Shihouin..._"

"_Hello?_"

He nearly jolted in surprise, and cleared his throat as much as he possibly could, "I need...help."

Yoruichi moaned, almost _sensually_, into the phone's transmitter. He pulled it away from his ear to give the device a disgusted look, and then put it back on his face. "_It's 6 in the morning, Kurosaki. What could possibly be so..._"

"_Baby,_" Another man's voice peeped through on the phone, "_who is it this early_?"

"_One of the basket cases I 'help out' at the office..._"

"_I can hear you,_" Ichigo whispered equally soft, "_and that's really unprofessional. This basket case should have your license revoked, but won't because I'm such an amazing person._"

"I'm on my way Kurosaki," She groaned loudly, "Meet me at my office in 35 minutes."

"Actually, about that...my car has had a little trouble lately," Trouble as in, _he forgot to fill the tank_, Yoruichi sighed irritably. "Then what do you want me to do, Kurosaki?"

"Could you maybe just...come over?"

Silence. Without a word, without seeing her, Ichigo knew the face Yoruichi was making. She was giving him that genuine signature, '_w__hat the fuck_' face without a doubt, and he chewed on his lip in nervousness. "_Fine_," she yawned, "but it _better _be critical. I don't do favors like this for just _anyone_. Bye, Kurosaki." She ended the call abruptly before he, and he sighed in relief.

Since yesterday his mind has been dragged back to yesterday, replays of Rukia's rejection, a bitter taste he can't rid himself of. As much as he regretted it— regretted _saying _it— he absolutely required Yoruichi's help.

-xx-

"Breathe, inhale, exhale," Yuzu coached Karin in the _art of converting oxygen to hydrogen_, as she called it. Karin strained horribly, inhaling and exhaling air into a brown bag she held tightly sealed around her lips. She nearly slid off the couch's plastic wrap covering and unto the ground, but Yuzu held her in place with gloved hands on her shoulders, "Yu...zu..."

"Yes!? What is it Karin!?"

"Why...did you...wrap everything...in plastic?" Karin strangled out. Yuzu blinked curiously, looking around at her plastic wrapped living room, "Just for...caution."

"You're a real freak y'know that si...sis..."

"In the trashcan! _In the trashcan!_" Yuzu thrusted the small back trashcan in the face of her ill sister with precision, Karin cringed forward and unleashed a wave of vomit inside with terrible retching. "Jeez...what's wrong with you, Karin? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"_Don't bother_," Karin coughed and spat, "_it's probably just a flu or something. It'll pass._"

"Yeah, but..." Yuzu brought her hand to her lips thoughtfully, "Maybe I should call brother again...maybe he can help! Just in case."

"_Don't—_" Karin snapped with a ferocious fierceness, "don't call Ichigo! I don't need his help...I can get passed this on my own. I don't need help from a guy who can barely keep himself well."

"Jee—sus! What is it about you two that makes you both act so hostile towards one another? Is it something I missed, growing up?" She pinched her hips tightly, tapping Karin on the forehead with the knuckle of her index digit, "Or is it just that you two like to bump your _thick heads _together all the time for no reason at all?"

Karin shoved the woman's hand away, sighing before dipping her face back into the open cavity of the trash can in her lap. She groused lowly in demise, throwing her head back against the plastic coated backboard of the couch, "_It's because of Senna._" Yuzu perked inquisitively, lending an ear to Karin's explanation, "_What_?"

"It's her fault Ichigo changed, isn't it?" Karin continued, "Once he fell in love with her it was like we didn't exist. And then when she passed...he started popping up occasionally." She cocked her head to an angle in which she could stare into Yuzu's eyes. Her baffled, _speechless_ eyes. "W...what does that— what does _Senna _have to do with anything?"

"Don't you think that if Ichigo fell in love again, he would only abandon us?"

"What's got you talking like this so suddenly," Yuzu brought up the bottle of nausea medication to her eyes to read the tiny print on the label, "what kind of dope do they put in this stuff..."

"Yuzu," Karin huffed, "do you really think Ichigo cares about us anymore?"

Silence. "_Yeah_!" Yuzu blurted as if it were absolutely _obvious_ her answer was correct. "But don't you think...if he really cared about us, he wouldn't worry you so much? And he wouldn't sabotage himself with health problems, and he would at least visit or call without us making the first move? Don't you think that if he _really cared _he wouldn't have to lie to us to get by himself in that big expensive penthouse he's _never_ invited us to just out of courtesy or the fact that we're his sisters, maybe you would think—"

Yuzu rose from her leaning position over the couch, now erect on both feet, she stood with a sudden ice cold aura permeating from her tense being. Clenched gloved hands by her sides trembled lightly, and her sights remained down to the floor at her toes pulling up fibers from the carpet. "Ichigo loves us," She snapped vivaciously, "and he cares! He does care. He just...grew up."

"Grew up? Yuzu, we _all _grew up! '_Growing up_' doesn't just make somebody act like they care less about their family, especially not when that _somebody _is your older bro—"

A sharp sound, then a silence. Silence which had been filled with the density of increasingly insurmountable tension. Silence which could only be broken by the tiny childish whimpers of Yuzu Kurosaki, her honey eyes leaking beads of tears, and Karin stands with her head crooked and the fresh redness of her cheek _stinging_. She brought her fingers to the hot mark on her face, silently, and slowly turning to bring her stare around back to Yuzu, "_You_..."

"Shut up!" Yuzu snapped unsteadily, "Just stop it! Stop spitting nonsense about Ichigo!"

Karin winced, her eyes fidgeting, her body's heat rising to incredible peaks of _hot_. She took the hand which caressed her face from her flesh and brought it to her side, clenching. "_How could Ichigo possibly care about someone who speaks so little of him all the time_," Yuzu continued, her tone lifting higher. Her eyes widened in appall, her body's immediate response unfolded and took place before her conscious had even the slightest second to grasp hold of her good knowledge. Karin's hand was hot, stinging with the pain of impact, red and tender. She stood before her sister who had fallen short of her to the ground, her locks of brown sprawled out in webs across the floor, covering her face.

She turned up and stared in disbelief, her petite hand cupping her red hot cheek.

Thus struck the final mark, and a new crack grew long and fresh in the fragile glass of the Kurosaki family's bond.

-xx-

"I don't normally do in-home sessions," Yoruichi mumbled, scratching her head with scarlet nails as she gazed around the magnificence of Ichigo's apartment, "this'll cost you _extra_."

Ichigo rolled his eyes in grimace, he huffed wolfishly at the woman sitting in front of him on his black leather armchair whilst he fit on the matching couch. "Aren't you supposed to have a notepad? Notebook? A _tape recorder_?"

"I'm more than positive that I'll remember anything you tell me, Kurosaki," She sassed, "so. _Tell me_."

He swallowed hard, lacing his fingers between one another to keep his hands still, "I told her, and. She rejected me."

"_And_?"

"And...?"

"Is that it?" Yoruichi blinked, "What am _I _supposed to do about it?"

Ichigo shot her a quick stare of intense questioning. Her eyeballed her from her head to her toes, her unprofessional apparel seemed off putting to him. Never had he caught Shihouin Yoruichi without her lady-suit and high heels, until today. When she sat before him, slouched in her sitting with a vivid orange v-neck t-shirt and dark blue jeans. She looked exhausted, _tense_. "Was I interrupting something when I called?"

She squinted her eyes sharply and leaned back in her chair, "Well, if you _must _know," she ground out, "I was in the middle of having sex with my husband—"

"Oh-_kay_." Ichigo cracked, "I've heard enough."

"What? Does the thought of sex actually disturb a man like you? Or is it just the thought of _me _having sex?"

"_Why are you telling me this?_"

"Well, you're always so open and honest with _me_. So why not I be the same?"

"Because you're my _therapist_!" He cried, "I talk— you listen, and then give me some bullshit advice! I don't— sit here and _listen to you telling me about sex with your husband_!"

Yoruichi scoffed, turning her nose up in the air, "I wasn't telling you about sex with my husband. I was merely telling you I was _having sex _with my hus—"

"Okay, let's, keep it professional Shihouin," Ichigo ground out lowly. She rolled her eyes arrogantly, crossing her arms over her bust and one leg over the other in impatience and irritation. Silent. Waiting. "That's kinda it actually," he finally said. Yoruichi groaned, cocking her head back over the chair and sighing through her nostrils. "Are you...absolutely sure it was, _rejection_?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll admit this once and only once for you to understand, if you don't already. Women sometimes...say things under _code_. It's like a dialect we all share that men are, seemingly impervious to. We'll either say one thing and mean the other, or say something inconspicuous to answer a question positively."

"Sorry, what?"

"What did she _say _Kurosaki?" She snapped lividly. Ichigo hopped lightly in his seat, rubbing the back of his goose bump prickled neck in thought, "She said...'I don't know'." He sighed softly, pulling his head down in remorse with both his hands pressed to the back of his spiked locks. The penthouse grew silent with thought and exasperation. "Do you think maybe she has a right to feel that way?"

Ichigo sprung high from his silent daze to stare with intensified eyes at Yoruichi, her question flying off every wall of his skull and coiling around his brain like a feral constrictor until... "_Pardon_?"

"Taking into account your...past..._lifestyle_, and...poor choice of women. Don't you think it's fair that Rukia feels that way," Yoruichi continued, "she's torn between loving you and keeping from getting herself hurt. She _wants _to be in love with you, but she doesn't want to have her heart broken by a possible 'slip-up' on your end, or possibly...one of your crazy ex girlfriends reappearing. An old fling? Is she the jealous type?"

"_You have no idea_," Ichigo groused lightly whilst scratching the back of his head. "Make sense now? She doesn't dislike you or not love you, or even hate you. She's just confused. And if you really love her, you'll get her to understand that if it were just the two of you, nothing else and no one else would matter." She leaned back victoriously in the grasp of Ichigo's leather armchair, flinging one of her legs over the other in a switch-up of position, her hands lacing on her lap, "Except of course, family. And friends."

"Friends...aw _fuck_," He spat loudly, "I haven't been to work in...shit. Uryuu's gonna _annihilate_ me."

"You should get going," Yoruichi yawned, "and leave _me _alone."

"Get out of here," He hopped from his chair and rounded his couch, snatching his cellphone off the kitchen's middle island and checking. No voicemails, no texts, _hopefully_, he was just now getting up. "Hey Shihouin—" Ichigo looked up from his phone's interface to find, she was gone. Nothing, but an indentation of her body in his leather chair, and the whistling silence. He hadn't even heard the _door _open and close again. She was just...gone.

As if she were never there. Simply a figment of his imagination, possibly induced by overwhelming loneliness or a desperate want for guidance...ghostly and beautiful.

This is weird.

Once more he rounded the couch to his living room, slowly for he was convinced she had simply ducked and hidden from his view to frighten him, though he found _nothing_.

Except a note lying face up on his glass coffee table, with dark small script and a female's cursive writing at the top that read, "_Here's your bill_."

Mystery solved. There was no ghost.

She was here alright.

-xx-

He yawned, exhausted, aching. _Grumbling_. "I know I told the guy he didn't have to come back until he felt better," Uryuu mumbled irritably, "but now it's getting ridiculous. _Hoh_, he better be terminally ill..."

Not really, though. Just. _Metaphorically_.

"Ho—kay. Forget about Kurosaki. It's a new day, let's get to work. Gonna work hard to bring home the bacon...and...whatever else Orihime wants to ingest—"

"Mr. Ishida, sir!"

"_Whoa_—" Uryuu jumped in surprise, the small voice behind him had exploded out of nowhere and nearly sent him into a state of shock, dramatically enough. However, it was only Hanataro, reeling backwards at the expense of probably being punched in the face unexpectedly, "I'm sorry sir! Did I startle you? I— I heard you talking to yourself and..."

"I was _not _talking to myself," Uryuu huffed crudely as he righted his tie. The young man looked to his left, then his right, and curiously enough inside of the large office...Uryuu gripped his shoulder and slowly and gently, pushed him back, "What is it Hanataro?"

"Oh, sir! I was just going to tell you, a man stopped by with a package for Mr. Kurosaki. I put it on your...I mean his...desk. Speaking of which, where is Mr. Kurosaki?"

Uryuu sighed, massaging the back of his neck, "Recovering I hope." He responded lowly, in a grumble. Using the word ''recovering'' as an insinuation that Ichigo had possibly been in a horrible accident that's keeping him away from work. Yeah. That's it. With final words of farewells, the two men returned to their jobs and Uryuu locked himself inside the office, slinging his coat over one of the chairs at the side of the door as he entered and approached the desk where a small brown cardboard box sat. It was taped, very simply, with no stamp. No slip indicating who the sender may have been, only a box. He inspected the package carefully once more over, and scratched his head inquisitively.

Walking back to the door, he swung it open and dipped out, calling down the hall, "Hanataro!" The young man swiveled at the cry of his name and responded accordingly, "Yes sir?"

"How do you know the package is for Mr. Kurosaki?"

"The man who delivered it told me so, sir! He said it was important that he open it as soon as possible...!"

Strange. Uryuu closed the door without another word and turned back to the box, eyeballing it closely and meticulously. "Oh well," he sighed, pushing the box off to the side of the desk, "I guess we'll let Ichigo open it then." He returned to the large swiveling leather seat behind the desk and initiated the desktop computer. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, with his elbow propped up on the flat top. Another day, another dollar.

And more bacon. Or whatever Orihime wants to ingest.


	21. Chapter 20

"Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bac-ey!"

Rukia moaned in her state of slumber, tossing over in her bed and groaning face down into the cushion of her pillow while Rangiku continued to sing, "Rise and shine, it's morning time! Get up easy, lemon squeezy—"

"_Please_ stop," Rukia whined. Rangiku cocked her head curiously, "But why! I thought I was doing pretty good! Maybe I'll even get signed to a rap deal—"

"No."

"You don't think so," the blonde erected her back, balling her fist tightly and holding it to her lips as if speaking into a microphone, or in this case, _rapping_. With her other hand, she swung it in front of her, fingers spread, and began to bounce with the made up rhythm of her morning _rap_, "Yo! Yo, yo! Get out the bed, sleepy head! You better brush your teeth...and attend to other morning necessities— but you can't skip breakfast! Uh—uh, the most important meal of the day is b-b-_breakfast_!"

Rukia lied motionlessly against the mattress, her body limp.

"Uh! But that ain't it! 'Cause after breakfast— it's time for— wicky— wicky— _wooork_!"

"Oh my god," Rukia grumbled. "So getcho ass up, getcho ass up! What!? I said getcho ass up—"

"O—_kay_!" Rukia jerked herself up from the mattress, attacking Rangiku with the pillow she once lied on. Peacefully. Rangiku laughed, taking the pillow into her hands to squeeze tightly as she winked and smiled at the woman, "You know what today is?"_  
_

"The worst morning of my life—?"

"Today's the daaay," She cheered, "that you tell Mister-Boss-Man how you really feel! And then you guys can get married and have lots of babies! Greasy little babies!"

_Gross_. Rukia rolled her eyes in irritation, huffing loudly as she groans and swings her legs over the edge of her bed, "I...I'm not feeling too hot. Maybe I shouldn't—"

"Say, _whaaaaat_!?" Rangiku shouted, Rukia flinched in appall. "Now I _know _you ain't just get all yellow bellied and chicken livered up in this bitch! Now you march your pale skinned skinny _ass _out there and get yourself some breakfast— then march that same _fine ass_, back in here and get dressed for work!"

"If it makes you stop talking like that," Rukia murmured. She stepped down to the ground and stretched her arms high in the air to loosen her tense muscles before—

_SMACK_! She shrilled in pain, cupping the hot flesh of her buttocks with her back arched, she swung around to scold Rangiku, "What in the world!?"

"What did I say about that _fine ass_!? You better get on a move on girl before these hands get all extra _physical_!"

"Ran what are you—"

Rangiku struck Rukia with the pillow and rubbed her hands together feverishly to collect heat from her palms' friction, and struck Rukia again hard in the rear. "What did I just say!? Get a move on girl!" Rukia shrieked out once more, this time quaking and nearly collapsing unto the ground, but instead she caught herself and rushed hurriedly out the door, to escape the horrifying aura of her roommate.

-xx-

What a morning. Starting off her day being sexually harassed by a grown woman wasn't _exactly _how Rukia planned to get the day rolling, but it worked. She carried herself to the front office of the condominium and waited for the reassuring nod of the guard to allow her access into the building furthermore. Boarding the elevator, she stabbed the button that would bring her to her destination and waited patiently to arrive on the very top floor, and the chirp of the elevator made her sure, she had made it.

Once the silver doors parted she stepped out onto stable ground and started down the hall, removing her card-key from the cup of her bra and slipping it into Ichigo's condo door. Given the blinking green light signal to enter, she turned the knob and did so to find— Ichigo..._outside_? She could see him, through the window of the large space, he was impossible to miss along with the loud splashing. She cocked her head in confusion and entered further to set her stuff on his couch and resume investigation of this odd notion.

He was swimming laps, up and down the length of his pool, his vivid orange hair exploding out from the water's depths only to crash back down beneath the surface once more as his arms pushed to accelerate him forward, and backwards. She'd gone unnoticed from the inside of his condo, and slid open the glass door to step outside and watch him.

"_Hey_," she called out to him, waving her arm high in the air, as if he wouldn't see her. He came to a halt in the center of the pool, spitting out excess water and flipping his hair backwards with the swipe of his hand, "R—Rukia!"

She smiled warmly, pinching her hands to her hips as she observed him coming to the edge of the pool, "Whatcha doin' up so early? I figured I of all people would be the one to wake you u..." Her lips froze in a small _O _shape, as she watched Ichigo lift from the water and step out onto dry concrete. He shook his hair once and ran his fingers through it to take the soaked locks out of his face, something about the way he did so made him look extremely _super model_-ish.

Also the fact that Rukia was seeing it all happen right before her very eyes in self-envisioning slow motion. The droplets of water rolling from his skin gave him all the more reason to render her speechless, in the presence of a man this absolutely breath-takingly gorgeous. Of course she's seen him like this before, but _god _has it been a long time...she'd almost nearly forgotten how much of an affect he could have on her in this state of physical beauty.

"Up." Rukia finished, swallowing hard to clear her throat of her _heart_. Ichigo exhaled softly, and to her surprise, he smiled. Not the usual, "_what are you doing here_" routine that she had both expected and been prepared for in coming up with a witty and offensive remark. Just a smile.

And a swift examination by his amber _elevator eyes_.

"You're still wearing that thing?" He questioned with a sly laugh. Rukia looked down at herself, dressed in her working uniform, "What? I'm here to work aren't I?"

He blinked, answerless. His eyes shrunk and he ground his teeth behind closed lips for several inaudible seconds before inhaling softly and speaking out, "you're fired."

Silence. Rukia closed her eyes for several seconds and opened them again, simply to make sure that she'd been conscious and aware of what was truly going on. "I..._what_?"

"I wanna take you out," he said as he slipped past her, to the pool chair to take a towel and rub it through his hair, "on a date."

Rukia bowed her head, squinting her eyes thinly and parting her lips to speak, but went unheard, because she hadn't known what to say. "So— wait," she finally blurted, "you fire me, then ask me out on a _date_?"

"Well, I didn't necessarily _ask _you anything," he replied snarkily. Rukia followed him back into his condo, sliding the door closed behind her and rushing to circle him and stand in front of him, "Slow down, hot stuff. Can you tell me exactly what's going on in that complicated fat head of yours, or are you even sure that you know what you're saying right now?"

"I know exactly what I said, and what I'm _saying _is, I'm gonna take you someplace. Someplace really nice."

"I'm not real big on fancy-schmancy scenes. Or the overly romantic, walking in the sunset, date thing."

"So then you'll be going on a date with me?" He smirked devilishly. Rukia winced, she inhaled heavily to speak, but exhaled when she'd been rendered speechless and kneaded her forehead, "What in the world is going on with people today..."

"What was that?"

"It's like you and my roommate have gone completely crazy," she said, "like you're not even yourselves...well, Rangiku _maybe_. But you? You're all up and awake, and smiling, and happy...and...not being a total dick. I mean, you're being an idiot, which is not unlike you, but it's a new weirder brand of idiot that I'm not entirely sure I approve of just yet."

Ichigo chuckled shortly after her speech and placed his hand to the back of his wet prickled neck, "Look. Don't worry about it, ok? I just don't want you to keep coming here to 'work'. I want you to come to see me. And I want to take you places more often, I'm tired of keeping things under wraps. Hiding things from people. I want to show you, to prove to you that I..." Without further words, Ichigo smirked and rested his hand on Rukia's shoulder, "Say yes?"

Rukia stared up into his pleading eyes, his jovial expression of hope, and ultimately— _cracked_. "I'll go home and change," she murmured, returning to the couch to collect her things, "Although I didn't expect to be riding the bus back home so soon—"

"Then don't," Ichigo blustered, pointing to himself with his thumb, "I'll drive you home."

She froze, tense with paralyzing fear. Ichigo, meeting Rangiku up close and personal? "I...it's...not necessary."

"Lemme throw something on quickly, don't go anywhere." He threw his towel to Rukia, and it slapped her in the face, wrapping itself around her head. By the time she'd peeled it off ready to object, he was gone, already up his stairs and in his bedroom rummaging through his drawers. It was only a matter of time, before Rukia's day would get even _more _unbelievably overwhelming.

If such a thing was possible.

She chucked the towel to the floor and threw her head back with a rough and exasperated sigh, reaching her arms up to the ceiling and clenching her fists, "God," she said, "please give me strength...to put up with two knuckle heads at once."


End file.
